






















<#». x-^'*' ** 




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LET ME THINK A MOMENT. Pcige 81. 



Frontispiece. 



BROWN STUDIES 

OR 

CAMP FIRES AND MORALS 



BY/ 

GEORGE H. HEPWORTH 

AUTHOR OF "HIRAM GOLF'S RELIGION," 
"HERALD SERMONS," ETC. 



¥ 







NEW YORK 
E. P. BUTTON & COMPANY 

31 West Twenty-third Street 
1895 



^ 



7^ 



\V 



Copyright, 1895, 
By E. P DUTTON & COMPANY 



CONTE^T^. 



CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

Into the Woods 5 

CHAPTER H. 
Do Flowers Have Souls? 34 

CHAPTER HI. 
Logs and Love 57 

CHAPTER IV. 
Families in Boxes 75 

CHAPTER V. 
Mistakes in Marriage. 97 

CHAPTER VI. 
My Lost Margaret 130 

CHAPTER VII. 

A Man's World 152 

3 



4 CONTEXTS. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

PAGE 

Some Curious Problems 180 

CHAPTER IX. 
Why Do We Marry? 210 

CHAPTER X. 

Was it a Vision ? 243 

CHAPTER XL 
Balked by Fate 280 

CHAPTER XII. 
Marriage Bells 306 



BROWN STUDIES; 

OR, 

CAMP-FIEES AND MORALS. 



CHAPTER I. 

INTO THE WOODS. 



It was in the afternoon of the 15th 
of September that I met my old college 
chum, Walter Van Nest, on Broadway. 
All the world was rushing by us like a 
spring freshet, but he drew me into a 
doorway where the rumble was only an 
echo. 

"You are not well/' he said, senten- 
tiously, for Walter is a physician with a 
large practice. 

" Tired," I answered. 
5 



6 BROWN STUDIES. 

''Of what?" 

" Of life ; of the everlasting racket, of 
the crowd, of the game of grab, but espe- 
cially of myself." 

" At forty ? " he queried. " Then you 
have a liver or a stomach, and are con- 
scious of it." 

" Perhaps I also have brains," I blurted. 
"At any rate, I have played chess with 
Wall Street long enough, and am going 
to sweep the pawns and bishops and 
knights off of the board and give myself 
a long rest." 

" All ! " he retorted, for Walter is some- 
thing of a cynic. 

" When a man gets to my age," I con- 
tinued, "it is pretty nearly time for him 
to believe in God." 

"And you do not?" he asked, quizzi- 
cally. 

"There is no room for one in New 
York, and I'm going where I can find 
Him." 



INTO THE WOODS. 7 

"Have you made a fortune, and are 
yon, as Rivarol said, ' a prey to the mal- 
ady of prosperity ' ? " 

I shook my head. 

"Then have yon lost a fortune — 'all 
my pretty chickens and their dam at 
one fell swoop ' ? " 

Again I shook my head. 

" I have a theory, Walter," I said, " that 
at some time in middle life a man ought 
to ejaculate himself from his environ- 
ment by sheer force, and spend a few 
months in some wilderness where he can 
make his own acquaintance, take an in- 
ventory of his intellectual and spiritual 
stock, and find out whether he is good 
for something or only good for nothing." 

" A very pretty theory ! " 

"And a wholesome one," I insisted. 
"I have been rubbing against my kind 
until my flesh is tender and painfully 
sensitive, and I am going to winter in 
the woods, with the partridges and the 



8 BROWN STUDIES. 

evergreens and the elonds and the stars. 
I have been at the grindstone for twenty 
years, and my nerves are so irritable that 
they fret and fnnie when the wind is 
east." 

Walter thrust his hand into his coat- 
pocket as though hunting for his pre- 
scription-book. 

" No," I said, decidedly, ^' I will swallow 
none of your drugs. What I want is 
fresli air, freedom from anxiety, a fish- 
rod, a dog, a gun, and some of my own 
thoughts for companions, instead of this 
everlasting chatter about stocks and 
fashions and investments and five per 
cents. I don't know myself. I have 
been talking so long to other people, and 
about first and second mortgages and 
corner lots and new enterprises and 
all the other details of ordinary life, 
that when night comes I am worn out; 
and if I ask my brain and my soul how 
thev feel and what thev have been do- 



IXTO THE WOODS. 9 

iug, I drop asleep before I can get an 
answer." 

" Yon go alone 1 " he asked. 

"Yes, alone." 

" Will yon be in good company or bad, 
if 3^on have only yonrself to talk to ! " 

" That is precisely what I want to find 
out. I can't answer yonr question just 
now, bnt if yon will meet me at the 
clnb some time in March next I will tell 
yon frankly." 

" Yon are a bold man with 'a bold ex- 
periment on hand. If j^on can live with 
yonrself six months yon will do more 
than most men. It is a frightful test of 
endurance." 

I shrugged my shoulders, for there was 
apparently nothing to saj^ 

"And whither speed you, my boy?" 

" To a camp in the woods, on the edge 
of a lake. I bought a couple of hundred 
acres two years ago, and there's a log hut 
somewhere on the tract. I hope to live 



10 BROWN STUDIES. 

on venison, trout, memories, and antici- 
pations." 

" That is good diet if you have plenty 
of it. When do you start ? " 

'' Next week." 

"Will you dine Avith me to-morrow? 
Perhaps you may become sane by that 
time." 

" Thanks, Walter, but you must excuse 
me. I am up to my ears in the work of 
preparation — canoes, guides, tackle, am- 
munition, underwear, and all the rest of it." 

When the doctor left me it was with 
the impression that a dose of calomel or 
a few grains of c^uinine would give me 
a lietter outlook. He had the courtesy, 
however, to wish me a pleasant winter, 
but expressed the fear that when spring 
opened I should be brought home in the 
shape of a dripping icicle. 

I bought these acres mth the dehber- 
ate purpose of expatriating myself, so to 



INTO THE WOODS. 11 

speak, and getting into some sort of com- 
niiiuication with nature. Ever since I 
passed my twentieth birthday I have been 
shoulder to shoukler with men, and if you 
will excuse me for saying so, I should like 
a change. I dived into the whirlpool of 
business one fine August evening when 
my father came to me and said : 

"My son, I have bought for you a 
junior partnership with a Wall Street 
firm. You will report for duty at ten 
o'clock to-morrow morning. In twenty 
years you will either have a fortune or 
be a beggar — I am interested to know 
which. If you have any mettle, here is 
the opportunity to show it. I think you 
wilJ succeed, but that is your affair, not 
mine." 

The twenty years have gone. My father 
was suddenly summoned in 1872, and the 
poor mother, after mourning over her 
loss for eight months, went to find the 
missing one. 



12 nnOWX STUDIES. 

I did not make a fortune, nor did I 
become bankrupt. I have enough to 
supply my daily needs and am there- 
fore unwilling to waste my energy in 
getting more. I am not greedy ; I have 
simply a good appetite. I don't want 
all there is, and should not know what 
to do with it if I had it. My ambition 
is not to leave behind me a pile of 
money for my heirs to quarrel about, but 
to find out what there is of interest in 
this world before I cross the border and 
begin to explore the other world. It 
would be very mortifying if the Lord 
should meet me on a street in the New 
Jerusalem and say, "T am sorry you 
spent so much time among things which 
you could not bring with you." 

If I understand the Bible it is simply 
a guide-book to enable you to prepare 
for housekeeping in heaven. You will 
find in it a list of the articles you will 
need in order to secure comfort and 



AA'TO THE WOODS. 13 

contentment in the new home ; also an 
injunction not to go with a hand-satchel 
and leave your trunks behind, but to go 
with your trunks and leave a gripsack 
behind. The difficulty with most men is 
that they leave too much and take too 
little. I am thoroughly selfish in this mat- 
ter, and wish to be reasonably equipped 
when I emigrate to the invisible conti- 
nent, and long ago determined to provide 
myself with the kind of furniture which 
gray-bearded old Charon will be willing 
to transport in his clumsy boat. 

I am not much of a theologian, but 1 
have come to the conclusion that the 
Lord will not cross-examine me on the 
propositions of the Athanasian Creed, but 
will inquire rather minutely — possibly 
with disagreeable minuteness — about my 
private life, my business transactions, and 
the general influence I exerted on the 
community. 

I felt a good deal like a fur cloak that 



14 BROWN STUDIES. 

has been stored away in camphor. The 
odor of the drug is nauseating, and the 
cloak must be exposed to cleansing breezes 
before it is fit to wear. In like manner 
the odor of worldliness, of money-mak- 
ing, of balls and dinners and parties had 
penetrated every fiber of my being, and 
I could only get rid of it by taking to 
the woods and introducing myself to the 
thrushes and woodpeckers and evergreens 
and snow-drifts. If I could once put my 
arms about the neck of nature and tell 
her, as frankly as a boy talks to a maiden, 
how I love her, I thought I should be the 
better for it all my days. 

My little parcel of wilderness was at 
the western end of the Adirondacks, so re- 
mote from civilization that after I left the 
railroad station I had to travel thirty-six 
miles by wagon to the rendezvous where 
I was to meet my two guides with their 
canoes. We should paddle leisurely up- 
stream — there are three portages, I was 



INTO THE WOODS. 15 

told, wMch would break the monotony 
of the journey — and by sundown of the 
second day enter the lake on which my 
property bordered, with a good substantial 
hut in full view. 

You have alread}^ guessed that I am 
a bachelor. I am aware that the term 
carries a certain reproach with it. The 
world invariably shrugs its shoulders at 
an unmarried man, and its shrug is ex- 
pressive of a modicum of contempt, as 
though it would say, " Ah, yes ! you think 
no one's daughter quite good enough for 
you. You want an archangel to keep 
your house in order, and as very few of 
these divinities stray away from the re- 
gions alcove you prefer to live in cynical 
singleness." 

I must assure you, however, that if this 

is the rule concerning bachelors, I am 

one of the exceptions which prove it true. 

. In my case it was Her fault, not mine. 



16 BROWy STUDIES. 

That was a very tragic episode in my 
life. Yon. wonld perhaps be interested if 
I conld speak freely, bnt I have never had 
a confidant and mnst be excused. That 
secret is known only to Her and to nie 
and to One other. Some people find com- 
fort in talking, bnt I should find pain. 

Suffice it that I am not of the number 
who can fall out of one love into another 
with promptness and despatch. Unfor- 
tunately I am so constitnted that a single 
exj^erience is all I can endnre. I do not 
care to flatter myself, bnt 1 am like a tree 
which has thrown its roots down deep in 
the soil. You cannot dig it up and trans- 
plant it, for it will certainly die if you 
make the attempt. 

When I saw Margaret for the first time 
I said to myself, ''Yon will fall in love 
with that woman unless you are very 
careful." But it was too late even then. 
We were like two di*ops of quicksilver, 
which, the moment thev come into actual 



I^TO THE WOODS. 17 

contact, become incorporated and are 
thereafter only one drop. You may say 
that in her I found my fate, or you may 
declare that she and I were affinities — I 
have no theory on the subject. 

I was talking with a scholarly fellow, 
awhile since, who had a lot of the queerest 
theories, and he made some very curious 
statements. 

He was a man of wealth and conse- 
quent leisure, and spent most of his time 
in travel. There was hardly a nook or 
corner of the earth which was strange to 
him. In his early days, he told me, he 
was an atheist, but was cured of that 
disease in Khanowal, in the Punjab ter- 
ritory. He lived there for five years, 
and made the acquaintance of a class of 
uncanny folk known as Adepts. He was 
an interesting talker, with a thousand 
adventures at his tongue's tip, and I sat 
for hours at a time in a corner of the liotel 



18 BIWWX STUDIES. 

veranda listening to liim and admiring 
his versatility. 

Among other things he disconrsed of 
reincarnation, bnt I grew restless and 
cried, '^ Nonsense, Waldron ! " 

" Oh ! " he replied, qnietly, " then yon 
know something about the subject ? " 

" Absolutely nothing," I replied. 

"And, knowing nothing, you think 
yourself qualified to stigmatize it as non- 
sense, eh!" 

The absurdity of my position was ap- 
parent, and I apologized by begging him 
to go on, but could not repress the feeling 
that he had gone daft. 

'^ I knew a very singular case," he con- 
tinued, '^ and you may be interested in it. 
Two Hindus of the upper class met by 
accident one afternoon, and the next day 
they were married." 

" Rather quick work," I suggested. 

" Yes, but there was reason for it." 

''So?" 






INTO THE WOODS. 19 

^' In a previous stage of existence they 
had been husband and wife. After deatli, 
of course, they remembered the relations 
which they held to each other, for death 
has no power to obliterate or even impair 
the memory. It is not when we die that 
we forget, but when we are born. There 
is a subtle mystery about birth, for dur- 
ing its processes the entire past is for- 
gotten and we begin anew. But in this 
instance birth did not produce its ordi- 
nary effect. The memory of the former 
life was blurred, and misty as a dream, 
but it was nevertheless sufficiently vivid 
to make them search for each other with- 
out exactly knowing that they were doing 
so. When they met recognition took 
place immediately, and so they brooked 
no delay, but were married at once." 

The story is certainly incredible, and 
yet, long after Waldron left me, I sat 
thinking about it. I wondered if the 



20 BLOWN STUDIES. 

reason why Margaret and I fell in love 
at first sight, and felt, as we often said, 
that we had known each other for cen- 
turies, conld be accounted for on Wal- 
dron's theory. 

But the time came when we quarreled. 
Something happened — whose fault it was 
I cannot say, but probably it was mine. 
There were charges and countercharges. 
I have quick blood, and say more than 
I mean when I am heated. Perhaps 
she meant less than she said. How the 
trouble assumed such grave proportions 
that she could dismiss me on the spot I 
have never been able to understand. Mar- 
garet was proud and I was obstinate ; so 
the next day a messenger brought me a 
little box containing the engagement ring, 
and then I knew there was no help for me. 

Let me simply add that within a few 
months she married the man whom she 
did not love in order to be revenged 
upon the man whom she did love, and 



INTO THE WOODS. 21 

the two went to Florida, where they lived 
on an orange plantation. 

I assure yon that this experience has 
not embittered me. I do not know why 
I should become cynical because I have 
suffered a great disappointment, or, as 
Falconer says, because 

"Dire Fate in venom dipped lier keenest dart," 

and left it quivering in my flesh. Love is 
still love, though my share has been taken 
away. Women are true and loyal, and 
if she ceased to care for me I must needs 
think that I was not worthy of her, for 
a nobler soul never resided in a beautiful 
body. 

Somehow I have always thought of 
myself as a married man, and can no 
more enter into relations with another 
woman than if my wife had gone to 
Europe for a time. I am lonely and 
homesick, and once in a while frightfully 
despondent; but they tell us that after 



22 nnojrx studies. 

death we shall have an opportunity to 
rectify the mistakes of the present life, 
and I like to believe that this opportunity 
will come to me. 

Margaret is constantly in my thoughts, 
and I have never been without knowledge 
of her. The memory of those old days is 
like the lamps in Catholic churches whose 
flame the priests never allow to go out. 
The oil is constant]}^ replenished and the 
light is forever bright. 

It so happens that I have a second 
cousin who lived within a few miles of 
Her. She has been the watchful provi- 
dence over the house which held my lost 
Margaret and my rival. 

When the times were hard, and the 
mortgagee who had loaned money on the 
plantation was about to foreclose, my 
good cousin drew on me, but Margaret 
never knew who befriended her. 

The relief was offered with a finesse as 
attenuated as a spider's web in the grass. 



INTO THE WOODS. 23 

which you know is never visible except 
in the early morning when it glistens 
with dewdrops. When my consin spun 
her web there was never any dew on it 
to render it visible. 

Bnt I mnst say no more on this sub- 
ject. I have partly taken you into my 
confidence that I may offer you a key to 
some of the incidents which I am about 
to relate. When a man has had such an 
experience at thirty, and has not recov- 
ered from it at forty, he does well to take 
to the woods. That is what I am going 
to do with my two guides, my canoes, my 
dog, my guns, and my love of nature in 
all her moods. 

" What a blessing it is," I said to my- 
self, as I stood on the bank of the stream 
ready for the start—" what a blessing it 
is to have all out of doors for an environ- 
ment ! Fresh air straight from the north- 
west, and sifted through thousands of 



24 BEOWN STUDIES. 

acres of pine forest ! And such a quan- 
tity of it ! Why, I have been here only 
haK an horn*, and yet what a change in 
me ! I feel as though I were sliding 
downhill into my boyhood again. 

" If the guides were not here I should 
like to throw my head back and scream 
from sheer excess of enjoyment. But that 
would never do. I must maintain my 
dignity before them at any cost. But if 
I were alone I believe I could chase a 
squirrel up a tree." 

I took long breaths, until my lungs 
began to puif out and my nerves tingled 
as though an electric current were pass- 
ing through them. Yes, I did right to 
get away from the city, with its rumble 
and roar, which seems to ring everlasting 
variations on the words '' Hard Cash ! " 
The friction had worn on me, body and 
brain alike, and a proportion of my recent 
depression came from restaurant gravies 



INTO THE noons. 25 

and trying to keep up a conversation with 
people I cared nothing about. 

One of the profoundest afflictions of 
life is to talk from sheer courtes}^, and 
wonder what you will say when the re- 
mark you are now making has passed 
your lips. I have had cold chills creep 
over me as the conversation lagged, and 
I had exhausted my entire repertoire of 
topics, but knew that I must smile and 
chatter on until somebody came to my 
relief. 

But to be in the woods loosens the 
tongue. Your thoughts come in a crowd, 
like a troop of gay dancers, and your 
mental exhilaration is simply ecstatic. 
There is such a friendliness in a forest ! 
The trees are all so brotherly that when 
you are about to leave, and try to thank 
them for their hospitality, they seem to 
say, " You can pay us for it all by coming 
again.'' 



26 BROWN STUDIES. 

And such a restf ulness steals over you ! 
Nature is never in a hurry. She has all 
the time tliere is, and her big heart never 
rises above the normal seventy- two beats 
per minute. How leisurely she changes 
autumn into winter and winter into 
spring ! What a delightful spirit of re- 
pose is found everywhere, and how quietly 
she does her work ! 

I was curiously impressed by this fact 
as I watched my boatmen lazily loading 
the canoes, and then turned to my dog, 
who was lying on the grass and yawning. 

I wonder if I can describe that scene ? 
It was a beautiful pictiu-e, and I shall 
never forget the impression it made on 
me. I hardly know why, but for a while 
what we call civilization seemed abhor- 
rent to me, and this communion with 
nature the only healthy life for a man to 
lead. Even the memory of the city, with 
its smoke and its unceasing noise; its 
cobblestones and brick houses; its rush 



INTO THE WOODS. 27 

and crush; its palaces and tenement- 
houses, with no sense of brotherhood be- 
tween them in spite of all the pulpits and 
all the clergy ; its dens of infamy trap- 
ping the pure and innocent and throwing 
them back on the world reeking with 
vicious habits ; its social shams ; its mar- 
riage system, in which hearts are bought 
by the highest bidder and sweet girlhood 
sacrificed to a corner house on the avenue 
and a yacht — yes, the memory of what I 
left behind me grated on my nerves, and 
I thought that the life of an Indian, or 
an ancient Celt, or the barbarian of the 
stone age, was better than that of the 
nineteenth century in a great city. 

The savage had his hut and — health; 
the man of to-day has his equipage, his 
country and town houses, the greenest 
envy of his neighbors, and — gout. 

There on my right was Leo. No one 
shall insult him by saying he is " only a 
dog." He is my intimate friend and com- 



28 BROWN STUDIED. 

panion. He would stand by me in good 
and evil report, and there is no danger 
he would not willingly share. A mag- 
nificent St. Bernard of the bluest blood, 
without a single taint of vulgarity — how 
I love him ! When I talk to him seri- 
ously he barks a reply, as though to say, 
"I understand you perfectly, but my 
larynx is out of order." I am very sure 
that the soul of a philosopher is im- 
prisoned in that fellow's body, and that 
by and by, in some other world, he will 
introduce himself to me, and thank me 
for all I have done to make his present 
life comfortable. 

The other day I was unusually moody. 
Old memories teased and fretted me. Leo 
walked deliberately round my chair, then 
sat down on his haunches and gazed into 
my face so pityingly that I could hardly 
endure it. A moment later he laid his 
big head on my knee, glanced up at me, 
and gave a low whine. Ah me ! there 



INTO THE WOODS. 29 

are uot many friends as satisfactory as a 
brainy St. Bernard dog, or, if there are, I 
liave not found tliem. 

For all the love he has given me I will 
say, as Mrs. Browning sings : 

" Therefore to this dog will I 
Tenderly, not scornfully, 

Render praise and favor : 
With my hand upon his head 
Is my benediction said, 

Therefore, and forever." 

Just yonder were John Thomas and 
Sim Grump, the first six feet three, and 
the second a good-natured, jolly little 
sphere, as broad as he was long. John 
was indulging in a pipe and Sim was 
whittling a pine stick. They were un- 
gainly creatures, and my friends might 
speak of them as uncouth ; but Sim, I 
heard, could cook a trout or broil a par- 
tridge, and bake potatoes in the hot ashes 
— in a word, get up such a dinner that if 
the gods of Olympus were invited they 



30 BBOJVX STUDIES. 

would ask for the privilege of coming 
again the next week. As for John, he 
conld track a bear or stalk a deer with 
snch finesse of skill that bear or deer 
regarded it a pleasure to die. He was a 
wonderful woodsman and was never so 
happy as when in the forest's depths. 
Tacitiu-n, because he had lived so long in 
solitude, he could nevertheless talk won- 
derfully well, when moved to talk at all, 
on the habits of every animal in the Adi- 
rondacks. He had no mania for shoot- 
ing, and would often sit for hours, as still 
as death, watching a doe learning the 
lesson of caution from the mother-deer. 
He was no butcher, but a genuine sports- 
man. 

The canoes lay in the stream, their 
noses on the bank for anchorage. In 
the first and second were our luggage and 
provisions, while the third was reserved 
for Leo and myself. Everything was 
ready for a start. It was late in the 



INTO THE WOODS. 31 

afternoon, but we should have a full 
moon and could paddle along until mid- 
night. 

Far away in the west the sun had sunk 
into the haze at the horizon, and looked 
like a huge orange. ''Fair weather to- 
morrow/' said John, " or the signs will 
fail up on me." 

I stood for some minutes looking at 
the wondrous orb. When he rose in the 
morning I was part and parcel of the 
great city. Now, at eventide, he and I 
were alone together, and it seemed to me 
that as his lower limb dipped below my 
line of vision he said " Good-night ! '' with 
a smile of approval. 

Half-way up the heavens was a mag- 
nificent cumulus, surrounded by the blue 
of the sky Hke a picture in a frame. Its 
outer edges were as white as snow — daz- 
zlingly white — while the middle ground 
was the color of ashes of roses. It sailed 
toward the east, attended by a troop of 



32 lUiOJVN STUDIES. 

lesser clouds, like a queen with her ret- 
inue. 

And while I looked its whole aspect 
changed. A slight tinge of brilliant red 
crept over it, and in a few moments it 
blushed a deep crimson, as though the 
peering sun had caught it in the arms of 
a lover. It was an amazing spectacle — 
such a spectacle as makes one heave a 
sigh without knowing why a sigh better 
befits the occasion than a smile. John 
looked, and took his pipe out of his mouth. 
Sim looked, and stopped whittling. But 
neither of them uttered a word, and I 
liked them all the better for it. 

I dislike to hear any one talk when he 
is looking at what is beautiful or sublime. 
It shows that the looker-on has only a 
superficial appreciation. Nature does her 
best for the man who has sense enough 
to be silent. 

Shortly after that the dusk settled 
down on the landscape. Venus appeared 



INTO THE WOODS. 33 

wearing a burnished silv^er shield, and we 
started, the silence only broken by the 
measured cadence of the dripping oars 
and the soft music of rippling water at 
the bows of the boats. 

Leo looked at me with those wondrous 
eyes which seemed to say, "I wonder 
what She is doing now?" then laid his 
head on his paws and dropped asleep. 



CHAPTER II. 

DO FLOWERS HAVE SOULS? 

Here I am at home in the woods at 
last. We reached the end of onr journey 
yesterday afternoon at abont four o'clock, 
and Sim heaved a sigh of relief when the 
bow of my canoe grated on the little 
patch of sandy beach in front of the 
camp. 

There is a clump of trees close to the 
water's edge, and as the wind is blow- 
ing they gently wave their branches, 
Avhich I take to be a graceful greeting to 
our little party. They are mostly needle 
pines, and as the pine is always an ^o- 
lian harp, we are welcomed by music. 

The ail* is warm, but crisp and brac- 
34 



DO FLOWERS HAVE SOULS f 35 

ing. There is not a cloud to be seen, 
and the skj^ is so blue— so exquisitely 
blue— that I say to nij^self, -^This must 
be a suburb of the New Jerusalem, and if 
a group of ang-els were to come and sup 
with me I should not be suiprised." Al- 
together I feel that nature has grasped 
me by the hand with the hope that I 
may enjoy the winter. 

I scarcely believe there can be many 
spectacles as beautiful as that on which I 
looked when Leo and I leaped from the 
boat and stood gazing in open-eyed won- 
der. There was a magic in it all, as 
though one of the fabled genii had trans- 
ported us to wonderland. And when, a 
short half -hour later, the wind suddenly 
died out, and the lake went to sleep with 
not a ripple on its surface, I felt that per- 
haps the echo of that Voice which once 
said, " Peace, be still ! " had just reached 
this secluded spot, and the lake had heard 
it and obeyed. 



36 BBOWX STUDIES. 

A sliort distance back of me, as I 
face tlje west, stands tlie camp, on rising 
gronnd, and close to the edge of the 
woods. It is made of rongh-hewn logs, 
but the man who planned it and chose its 
location was an artist. As a woodland 
home for a fellow not quite satisfied Avith 
his fate, whose heart-beats are in the 
minor key, it is simply a dream. The 
moment 1 saw it I said : " Tliis suits my 
mood. I like the corrugated bark on the 
logs of that hut, and I like tlie old stumj^s 
in the clearing in front, and the wild 
asters Avhich peep ux) on every hand, and 
the tinted leaves of the bushes vvdiich an 
early frost has doomed." 

Yes, there are about a thousand square 
yards of clearing between the house and 
the lake, and these old stumps seem like 
a company of brown dwarfs who have 
come to be my companions until the 
snow covers them up. On the right and 
left, as we sit on the little veranda, stretcb 



DO FLOWERS HAVE SOULS? 37 

tlie woods, somber, grave, dignified, for 
tliey liav^e full twenty years' growtli to 
tlieir credit. They remind me of an army 
of stalwart fellows in green nniform. 
That Imge oak in the middle of the clear- 
ing, which the woodsman's ax has spared, 
and wliicli rises straight of statnre a good 
seventy-five feet, is their major-general. 

As I sit here, Leo at my side, I can 
hear the cheery voice of a streamlet hard 
by, singing as it tumbles over the stones. 
Some one has dug a hole on its edge and 
driven a barrel down, the water in which 
— clear as crystal — constitutes onr supply 
for the kitchen. 

In front of me the lake stretches for 
three good miles, its shores overhung by 
undergrowth, with once in a while a tall 
pine bending over as though trying to 
catch a glimpse of itself in the Claude 
Lorrain glass at its foot; for trees are 
just as vain of their beauty as men and 
women. 



38 BliOUN STUDIES. 

Over yonder a point of land jnts far 
out into the lake. Had it been of soft 
allnvial soil, it wonld have been washed 
away by prehistoric storms; but it is a 
rocky mass, blackened by time, and will 
therefore hold its own for centuries yet. 

Farther off, in the background, are two 
cone-like elevations, green to their sum- 
mits, but with a roadway of white 
adown their sides, where an avalanche in 
some fierce winter has plowed a path and 
taken everything with it except the lime- 
stone and the granite, wliicli refused to 
join the mad runaway. 

My camp has three rooms : two in the 
main building, and one in the ell which 
serves as the lodging-place of my guides. 
My own room faces the south, and on the 
western end is a huge fireplace where 
four-foot logs will burn bright by and 
hj. There is a rude table in the middle, 
some book-shelves on the side, a couple 
of chairs wlucli have seen better days. 



DO FLOWERS HAVE SOULS? 39 

and a dilapidated bedstead whicli I shall 
br^ak up for kindling- wood, as I propose 
to sleej) on nothing less fragrant than 
hendock-bonghs. 

The second room is of eqnal size, and 
is to be the Idtchen and eating-room. 

Jnst before snndown Sim came to me 
with inquiries about supper. 

" What liave you to offer ? " I asked. 

"Bacon and baked potatoes, or a slice 
of ham, or some canned meats. We may 
have venison after a little, and ought to 
get partridges, or possibly a wood-duck, 
and along the trail that leads out to the 
settlement I have seen rabbits, but to- 
night" — and he hesitated. 

" WeU, Sim," I ventured, " I have the 
appetite of Cyclops, but none of these 
things suit me. Can't you think of any- 
thing else ? " 

"Hot rolls, buckwheat cakes" — he 
began. 



40 BBOWX STUDIES. 

"No, no, not to-niglit. Give me — let 
me see" — and I looked toward the lake 
wondering wliat I wanted most. " All ! 
I have it. You shall broil me a fine 
tront, Sim." 

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. 
" Bring me the trout and I'll cook him," 
he said, sententiously. 

No sooner said than done ; or, rather, 
no sooner said than begun. 

"John, where is my rod?" 

" In the southeast corner of the kitchen, 
sii\" 

"And my flies?" 

" Here in my pocket, sir." 

In ten minutes I was in one of the 
canoes, paddling with all my might. A 
sense of exhilaration crept over me, and 
I felt like an emigrant from Olympus. 
A man with a trout-rod in his hand is 
always young. The man w^ho must catch 
his supper before he can eat it feels that 
life is w^orth living, for he has a great 
purpose in view. 




A THKEE POUXDER.' i'ufje 41 



DO FLOWERS HAVE SOULS f 41 

At tlie very first (;ast I liad a rise, and 
was elated. After that, for a while at 
least, it seemed as thongii all the fish 
had heard of my fame as a sportsman, 
and gone into hiding. I threw the fly 
so deftly — excnse my egotism — that it 
lighted on the water like a moth; bnt 
there was no response. 

Then I became disgnsted, and pnlled 
away to another spot where the shadow 
of the woods made the lake look gloomy, 
and threw a wldte fly. How my heart 
jumped ! There was a splash, then a 
qnick movement of my right arm as I 
fastened the hook in the jaws of my 
game, tlien a hissing sonnd as the silk 
ran over the reel, and I was happy and 
excited. What a struggle! "A three- 
pounder ! '' I said to myself, and my 
nerves began to tingle. 

I am rather proud of my skill as a 
fisherman, but it Avas fully twenty min- 
utes before that trout surrendered and 
allowed me to draw him within reach of 



42 BliOIVX STUDIES. 

my net. He was lauded at last, and I 
rowed home in great glee. 

S 11 ell a supper ! '• So, so, Van Nest," 
I said, when I had finished, "you wanted 
me to take quinine, or possibly a dose of 
calomel, eh? Broiled trout and bacon, 
with a good cup of black coffee, are bet- 
ter than all the prescriptions you ever 
wrote." 

That night Leo and I went to bed at 
nine o'clock. John had spread a lot of 
hemlock-boughs in the corner, making a 
mattress a foot thick, and over this was 
laid a large blanket. Leo took his place 
at my feet, as he always does, and before 
I could say good-night to the dear fellow 
I was sound, sound, sound asleep. 

In the city I used to toss about in the 
most restless fashion, but in the woods I 
simply shut my eyes and was gone. 

"No, John," I said, when the guide 
asked me to take a tramp with my rifle 



1)0 FLOWERS HATE SOULS? 43 

the next morning — "no, it is a duty to 
devote my first day here to dehcious in- 
dolence." 

'^ Rnther qneer to call doin' nothin' a 
duty/' he responded. '' Guess if the Lord 
had put that down in the Decalogue it 
would 'a' been considerable gratifyin' to 
hum an natur in gene ral. However, there's 
lots of folks who act as though the Lord 
had forbid 'em to work, and would be 
down on 'em ef they did a stroke." 

"And what are you going to do?" I 
asked. 

" Oh, just slouch about a bit and see if 
anythin' comes in my way." 

So John disappeared with his gun, and 
I lay down on a patch of soft grass, with 
woods and lake and sky in full view, to 
think, and, if possible, make my own ac- 
quaintance. 

Li this way I spent two delightful 
hours. Not a sound was heard except 
the melancholy voice of the pines and the 



44 BROWN STUDIES. 

occasional slirill note of the kingfisher or 
the tap, tap of some stray woodpecker 
prospecting for his dinner. 

As I watched the kingfisher and list- 
ened to the woodpecker's tap, the folk- 
lore abont birds came to mind — those 
pretty stories which the peasants of 
Europe like to tell to their children, and 
which are half believed. 

The poor sparrow, for example, has 
few friends. Nobody speaks a kind word 
for him, or wants him flying about the 
house. The swallow, on the other hand, 
can come when he pleases, for he brings 
good luck. 

If you happen to visit Sweden some 
day, you may hear a very interesting 
legend of the sparrow, and learn why he 
is never welcome. Your host will tell 
you, if you win his confidence, that the 
sparrow did not behave very well during 
the tragedy of the Crucifixion, and that, 



DO FLO WEBS HAVE SOULS? 45 

in a word, he represented tlie evil one on 
tliat occasion. 

Tliat is a serions cliarge, but yonr liost 
will assnre you that the statement is well 
founded, and you will do well not to cul- 
tivate an intimate acquaintance with that 
bird, for ill fortune is sure to follov/. 

When all was ready for the execution 
on Calvary the swallows were so affected 
that they swept tlirough the air in great 
excitement, and, hovering near the person 
of Christ, did what they could to comfort 
and console him. When the nails had 
been laid on the ground these little swal- 
lows carried them away, and so tried to 
save their Friend. But the mcked spar- 
rows were also present, and when they 
saw where the nails had been hidden they 
lirought them back. 

Your Swedish host will also call your 
attention to the wonderful charity which 
Christ had for all creatures. He nius^: 



46 BEOny STUDIES. 

have known — for nothing could be hid- 
den from Him — that the sparrow has a 
depraved nature and seeks every oppor- 
tunity to lead us into mischief, and yet 
when speaking of the providence of God 
He chose this bird for illustration, saying, 
" Are not two sparrows sold for a far- 
thing? and one of them shall not fall on 
the ground without your Father." 

You will furthermore be told, with 
many a shake of the head, that when the 
Saviour was on the cross, and the officials 
were anxious to learn whether death had 
come or not, these malevolent sparrows 
cried out, " Fif ! Fif ! " or, '^ He is living ! 
He is living ! " with the hope that His 
agony might be prolonged by fresh cruel- 
ties: but the little swallows set up a 
counter-cry of " Umer ! Timer ! " or, " He 
is dead ! He is dead ! " thinkings thereby 
to protect Him from tlie thrust of the 
spear. 

For these reasons it is considered a 



^ 



no FLOWERS HAVE SOULS? 47 

good sign when tlio swallows build their 
nests nnder the eaves of your house, and 
an unhappy omen when the sparrows are 
attracted either to your house or barn. 

Is it not plain, therefore, that, whether 
rightly or wrongly, the people of earlier 
days — the days before science robbed life 
of its poetry and romance, and reduced it 
to a series of dry and commonplace facts 
— thought of nature, trees, grass, flowers, 
and clouds as an assemblage of beings, 
not as mere things! Everything had a 
voice with which it could converse about 
its wants and pleasures, and the swallow 
and the sj)arrow and the flowers and the 
pines could communicate with one another 
in a language which, alas ! no man could 
understand. 

Do you know, I am more than half in- 
clined to believe, as the ancient Greeks 
did, that there are invisible beings every- 
where, and that everything in nature has 
a soul. I never broke a rose from its 



48 BUOWN STUDIES. 

stem or plucked a daisy in the field with- 
out wondering whether it felt the wound, 
and when I hear the woodsman's ax fall 
against the trunk of some stately tree it 
seems to me that I can hear a groan in 
the air, as though the sj^irit of the tree 
were suffering. 

"Why not? Is there not some strange 
intelligence in the seed, which is no sooner 
planted than it begins to develop, send- 
ing a shoot through the soil in search, of 
sunshine? And is not this intelligence 
made even more manifest when from the 
sod the proper constituents are selected 
for its growth, and year after year it 
spreads out its branches until it becomes 
a maple or an oak or a birch, in all the 
beauty of perfection ? 

And when the stem of a flower is puls- 
ing with joyous life, and manufactures in 
the secret laboratory under our feet that 
delicious perfume with which it fills the 
air, is it all unconscious of what it is 
doing, and has it no purpose in view ? 



DO FLO WEBS HAVE SOULS? 49 

And when I pluck the flower does it 
not feel the fracture of its life as tralj 
as the ant does which I tread to death 
nnder my foot? If I can suffer, if the 
dog can suffer, if the worm can suffer, 
why not the rose and the geranium? 
How do I know that the blossom is in- 
different to its fate, and why should I 
think it is so? May I not believe with 
reason that there is a flower soul as well 
as a man soul ? 

At any rate, the feeling that this is 
possible has given me a very tender love 
of nature. When I gazed on the bed of 
pimpernels which grew close by my side, 
they perhaps knew what I was doing and 
appreciated my admiration. Was it a 
false sentiment which held my hand back 
as I was about to pluck one to exam- 
ine it, and forced me to say, "No, let it 
enjoy its little life as I enjoy mine. Why 
should I destroy it for a moment's plea- 
sure or to satisfy my curiosity?" So I 
looked and looked and held my magnify 



50 BBOirX STUDIES. 

ing-glass over its petals, and could not 
lielp thinking that it heard me when I 
said aloud, '' What a dainty little beauty 
you are ! " 

I have great sympathy with the views 
of the Athenian merchant in the days 
when Socrates was suffering from his 
wife's ill temper and was glad to get 
away from the dispute at home to in- 
dulge in an argument at the street corner 
with some sophist. He had liis country 
house on the level plain at the foot of 
Mount Hymettus, which assumed a violet 
hue in the twilight. Everything about 
him was associated with some divinity, 
whose good-will was sought by oblations 
of milk and honey. The woods hard by 
were filled with dryads who roamed at 
their pleasure, while that stately oak jon- 
der contained the soul of a hamadrj^ad 
who would live and die with it. 

If he looked from his jiortico over to 
Mount Pentelicus he was reminded of 



DO FLOWERS HAVE SOULS? 51 

the bean tif 111 nymphs. There were moun- 
tain-nymphs, who sang in the depths of 
the forests ; dale-nymphs, who lived in 
the valle}^; mead-nymphs, who found a 
home on the meadow-land; and water- 
nymphs, who loved the streams and 
springs. When Diana pursued the deer 
they attended her in gay huntress' attire, 
and on grand occasions they waited on 
Juno and Venus. 

If he were a bachelor, and comely, he 
could give rein to his fancy and believe 
that some day, while wandering by the 
streamlet's bank, he might meet one of 
these exquisite creatures and bring her 
home as his wife. *' Why not 1 " he might 
ask himself. Did not Echo, who was 
punished by Juno for an unpardonable 
bit of deception, and doomed to so far 
lose her voice that she could only repeat 
what she heard — did she not become en- 
amoured of a fine-looking boy. Narcissus ? 
He slighted her love, but our Athenian 



52 BEOWX STUDIES. 

bachelor would be more gallant. And 
was not Enrydice, also a nympli, the 
hap]3y wife of a loving husband until 
death snatched her from his embrace ? 

Who can tell what effect such a belief 
would have on this Athenian ? He could 
never feel alone, for there was comrade- 
ship in rocks and rills. How strange to 
him were the associations connected with 
a pine-tree, many of which were within 
a stone's throw; and how pathetic the 
story of which it reminded him ! Poor 
Cj^bele was endowed with beauty and wis- 
dom, and when her glance fell on Attis 
she loved him, and he, dear boy, returned 
the love in full measure. But the father 
put the rash lover to death, whereupon 
she passed her days in solitude under a 
pine into which she thought the youth 
had been transformed. With each recur- 
ring spring she gathered violets because 
they came from the blood of the slaugh- 
tered loved one. 



DO FLO WEBS HAVE SOULS f 53 

All this is very fanciful, but very de- 
iiglitful. It does not appeal to the reason 
of our times, hut we can hardly escape 
its charm. 

Perhaps this age is better than any 
that the earlier world ever knew, but I 
should like to superadd to our wonder- 
fully practical life some of the fervor of 
imagination which this Athenian bachelor 
enjoyed. 

And as I sat on that grass-plot, gazing 
at the smooth waters of the lake in front, 
at the woods which covered every hill 
with verdure, at the sky overhead, where 
clouds were chasing one another like boys 
let out from school, I felt that something 
of this ancient belief would give me com- 
fort and a more tender affection for the 
physical world. 

Just as the sun reached mid-heaven 
Sim broke in on my reverie with the 
raucous clane^or of a dinner-bell. The 



54 BliOirX STLDIJ^S. 

bracing air had given me an appetite^ 
and all things — poetry, science, religion 
• — must give way to hunger. Leo was 
evidently of the same mind, for at the 
first sonnd of the hell he was on his feet 
and looking into my face as though he 
would say, " Good su*, your brown study 
has doubtless been edifying and instruc- 
tive, but a call to dinner should never be 
ignored." 

'' Sim," I said, as I lighted my cigar at 
the end of the repast, "do you know 
these woods well ? " 

" Been in 'em ever since I got out of 
my cradle," was the short reply. 

"Have you" — I found some difficulty 
in framing my question — "have you ever 
seen anything in them that startled you 
or set you to thinking f" 

" Bears ? " he asked, as he stood at the 
Avindow and looked out into the sunshine. 

" No," I said, slowly, " not wild animals, 
but—" 



no FLOWERS HAVE SOULS f 55 

Sim turned round and looked first at 
Leo, wlio seemed very serious, aiid then 
at me. 

'^Ghosts?'' lie asked, lialf under liis 
breath. 

" Yes." 

" They're there," he answered. 

'' How do you know ? " 

" I've seen 'em." 

' • Seen them, Sim f You ? " 

" Well, yes," he replied, rather doggedly. 

'^ Where, pray?" 

"Three miles from here, over in the 
chasm." 

"Are you sure, Sim?" 

"Dead sure. Couldn't be surer of 
nothin' on top of the earth, sir." 

"Thatis very odd, Sim." 

"So I thought at the time, sir, and so 
I've thought ever since. But I'm tellin' 
the gospel truth for certain." 

I did not ask for the story at the time, 
knowing that later on he would tell it ; 



56 BROWN STUDIES. 

but I said to myself, " After all, himian 
nature is tlie same everywhere. The 
bachelor of Athens saw nymphs and dry- 
ads, or thought he did, and Sim has seen 
ghosts, or thinks he has. The supernat- 
ural still keeps its hold on us, and life 
would not be worth much without it.'^ 

I lay down on the lounge, wondered 
what She was doing on that orange plan- 
tation in Florida, and then began to dream 
dreams. 



CHAPTER III. 

LOGS AND LOVE. 

What is more exquisite or more stimu- 
lating than an ideal day in October, when 
the year has nearly done its work and we 
catch the weary "autumn nodding o'er 
the plain " ? 

As I sat on my little veranda yester- 
day afternoon, looking on the gorgeous 
scenery at the end of the lake and on 
either side of it, I think my heart gi-ew 
very mellow and my love of nature deep- 
ened. The sun was running low in the 
heavens, and the waters seemed like mol- 
ten gold. Tlie maples on the hillsides 
were all ablaze with color, and the white 
birches, with their brow^n and yellow f oli- 
57 



58 BliOWX STL DIES. 

age against the dark-green background of 
evergreens, were marvelously beautiful. 
On the edge of the woods near by were 
groups of sumac-bushes, their leaves 
ranging from a dazzling carmine to a 
kind of burnt sienna. The mass of color 
was overwhelming, while above it floated 
gray clouds through the blue ether. I 
was so impressed by the spectacle that, 
do what I would, the tears would come ; 
and when I said to myself, "They tell 
us that this is only the rude portico of a 
House so much more beautiful that it 
could not have been made with hands," I 
felt a certain ecstatic longing after the 
other life. 

Autumn is not to me a season of de- 
pression. I would not call these "the 
melancholy days, the saddest of the 
year," as Bryant did. On the contrary, 
they incite to action ; they stir the imagi- 
nation; they fnrnish you with unspeak- 
able beautv in which to revel. 



i 



LOGS AXI) LOVE. 59 

When the strong man. on the evening 
of some day in which he has done grand 
and noble work, slips off his clothes and 
lies down to refreshing sleep, I cannot 
look on his rngged face Avith any painful 
emotions. The sleej) brings renewal of 
vigor. He will wake in the morning with 
a giant's strength and go on with his task. 
Let him rest, I say, and while he rests 
I nurse my pride in his achievements. 

Nature is that strong man to me. The 
year is his day. When the frosts come 
he feels the need of slumber; and when 
he lies down for a while to lose himself 
in happy dreams, the good God, whose 
servant he is, drops on his prostrate form 
a coverlid of snow and gives him the hills 
for a pillow. The winds sing his lullabj-, 
as a mother sings to her child until its 
little lids droop. 

These variegated forests are only the 
shavings of many-colored woods piled 
hard by his work-bench, and in the morn- 



60 BROWN STUDIES. 

ing, Avhen ttie spring comes, he will sweep 
them all away aud go on with the wonder- 
ful work in which he is engaged. 

No, there is only gladness in the au- 
tumn. Nothing dies — it only gathers 
strength with which to create more beau- 
tiful effects. 

The Khonds believed that when their 
priests remained in an unconscious con- 
dition for several days, as was frequently 
the case, it was because their souls had 
departed from their bodies and gone on a 
journey to the divine presence to have 
certain vexed questions answered which 
they themselves could not solve. 

So I like to think that nature, on 
stated occasions, or with every recurring 
autumn, pays a visit to the heavenly re- 
gions to receive advice and instruction, 
and comes back in the spring mth such 
a radiant smile that flowers blossom in 
his path and the trees send forth new 
leaves. This is a mere fancy, you say ; 



i 



LOGS AND LOVE. 61 

but what gives us more i)leasiire than a 
roving imagination? Let it be a fancy, 
if yon will have it so; bat let me assure 
you that it gives me good cheer, and that 
is more than much of your cold science 
can boast. 

When the twilight crept over the land- 
scape yesterday, and Venus lighted her 
fires in the west, it was too chilly to sit 
out of doors, for a nipping and an eager 
air came across the lake. As I opened 
the door of my living-room, my eyes fell 
on that magnificent fireplace. 

^'John!"Icried. 

"He is behind the camp cleaning his 
gun," answered Sim. 

" Tell him I want him, please.'' 

''John," I said, when he appeared, "it 
is chilly." 

" Yes ; the wind cuts like a piece of broken 
glass ; mostly does at this time of year." 

" Do you suppose there is wood enough 
out there to last us all winter "? " 



62 BROWN STUDIES. 

"About fifty cord, sir. Guess youli 
have to keep a fire goin' all day and all 
niglit to get througli with it." 

" Is there a good draft to this chimney, 
John!" 

"Draft? Why, when there's any air 
stirrin' it'll draw the shoes right off your 
feet. That chimney was bnilt for busi- 
ness, sir. If you like I'll fetch an armful 
of wood and show you what it can do." 

In less than five minutes he returned 
with a splendid old backlog of hickory 
about fifteen inches in diameter, and Sim 
followed with his arms full of dr3^ pitch- 
pine. 

John believed in kneeling when he 
made a fire. First he put the backlog in 
place, then he piled the pine loosely in 
front of it, to give the flames a good 
chance to get at every stick. He e^^ed his 
structvire as critically as an architect looks 
at the plan of a building, and chuckled 
his approval. His " Hm ! WaU ! " indi- 



LOGS AXD LOVE. 63 

cated a degree of seK-praise in which he 
seldom indulged, for he was one of those 
fellows who say they cannot do a thing and 
then do it in the most skilful fashion. 

"Where's yonr kindling?" I asked. 
"The evening papers haven't come yet, 
so we shall have to find a substitute." 

"Don't want no newspaper for this 
Idnd of business. Here, Sim, hand me 
that piece of soap-box." 

With his jack-knife, which was a for- 
midable-looking y/eapon, he \vhittled 
away until he had a double handful of 
fine stuff, which he carefidly disposed of 
under the logs, and then lighted a match. 

Ah, what a fire that was ! At first, to 
be sure, I thought I was doomed to dis- 
appointment, and suggested m}^ doubts 
to John ; but he received my opinion with 
infinite contempt, saying : 

" There isn't many things I can do, sir, 
but one thing I can do" — with tremen- 
dous emphasis on the "can" — "and that 



64 BIWWX STUDIES. 

is to build a fire that wou't go out. In 
less than a jiff}', sir, you'll have a perfect 
conflagration." 

With that the two left me. 

I drew my chair up and watched the 
flames, which seemed to enjoy the work 
they were doing. In less time than it 
has taken me to describe what occurred, 
I was forced to move back, and there was 
such a crackling and roaring that I was 
almost startled. 

The room was as light as day, and the 
sparks flew out in gleeful showers. They 
actually tumbled over one another, a joUy 
crowd, as they sped up the chimney. I 
could hear nothing else, save the mufi&ed 
voices of the guides in the kitchen and 
the regular breathing of Leo, who lay 
with his head on his paws, fast asleep. 
A sense of perfect satisfaction crept over 
me as I gazed at the flames, and I felt 
that even in Nirvana there is no more 



LOGS AND LOVE. 65 

reposeful happiness than had fallen to 
my lot. And so I fell to musing. 

"Well/' I thought, "it takes but little 
to make a man happy, after all, if he only 
thinks so. 

" Happiness depends very little on our 
surroundings, and very much on ourselves. 

"I have a good fii-e, a rain-proof hut^ 
a few books, my gun, my rod, my dog — 
what more do I want ? 

"If—" 

That word made me stagger. It brought 
back strange memories, and although the 
flames had reddened my cheeks I think 
they grew pale. 

"If—" 

I recalled that evening under the star- 
light when She and I were together. We 
were by the sea-shore, listening to the 
waves as they sang along the beach. I 
hardly know how it came about, but I 



66 BEOWX STUDIES. 

told Her all. Slie listened without a word, 
thoiigii I felt her arm tremble as it lay 
on mine. That gave me courage, and the 
story of my love fell from my lips with 
a kind of delicious anguish. For months 
I had gazed at Her from afar, but dared 
not hope to possess the Kohinoor. 

I fell asleep at night with Her voice in 
my ears, and when I waked in the morn- 
ing my first thought was of Her. I was 
the willing and proud slave of a new 
emotion. I lived in the most exquisite 
misery, and would not have parted with 
it for an African diamond-mine. 

There is no such blissful agony as that 
which love bestows. My soul had been 
tortiu-ed b}^ doubts and fears; it soared 
to ecstasy and fell to despair; it spent 
this hour in heaven and that hour in 
hell; it was racked and torn by imagi- 
nar}^ slights. But on that starlit night, 
when only the waves could hear what 
was said, and when with a wild iinpulse 



LOGS AND LOVE. 67 

I took Her to my heart with a burning' 
kiss, I knew that my previous sorrows 
only increased my present happiness, and 
was a thousand times grateful for every 
wretched moment I had passed. 

And so, as I sat by my wood-fire, I 
could not cheek the thought that if She 
were only at my side — 

But alas ! 

By this time — for two hours had hur- 
ried by — the flames were low. There were 
onh' a few charred and blackened bits of 
wood left, and these burned sluggishly and 
fitfully, as though they had finished their 
task and were tired. 

John knocked at the door and entered. 

^'Your fire is nearly out," I said, in 
half-remorseful tones, as though it was 
by some fault of his. 

" 'Twas dry pine," he responded. 

"Well," I queried, '^what of it?" 

"Notliin', sir, except that it's always so 



68 BBOWX STUDIES. 

with pine. It catches quick, it blazes up 
quick, it's awful hot while it lasts, but it 
goes out quick and leaves you in the 
lurch. Shall I bring in another armful ? " 

"No, John, I'm going to bed. Good- 
night." 

But I sat an hour longer gazing at the 
flickering embers. "' Quick to come, hot 
while it lasts, and quick to go" — I re- 
peated the words again and again, for 
they seemed to have a subtle meaning 
that I could not at first fathom. 

They rang in m}^ ears like a village 
church -bell tolling for a funeral. 

"It is the pine-wood love," I said to 
myseK, "that makes half the misery in 
this world." 

" It catches quick," said John ; and my 
memor}^ grew very busy with the past of 
the men and women whom I have known. 

There were Jack and Teeny. He had a 
high tenor voice, but nothing else. It was 
his sole possession, unless I except certain 



LOGS AND LOVE. 69 

bad habits which young men easily ac- 
quire. Teeny had a small foot and a 
large imagination. She thought she was 
in love with the whole of Jack, but the 
dire reality was, she loved his vocal 
chords and took her chances with the 
rest. 

I do not believe she ever thought of 
marriage in a serious way, and if Jack 
had been without a voice she would 
scarcely have endured his presence for 
an evening. But she was fond of music, 
and fancied that she would live in a pal- 
ace, with Jack to sing to her all day. 

Teeny was a lovable sort of creature, 
but she • had very little common sense. 
It was impossible for her to reason about 
anything, for her impulses and her ca- 
prices were all there was of her. 

And John said also, "It blazes up 
quick." Yes, it was that way with Teeny. 
"When Jack sang, one night — it was the 
first time she had heard him — I noticed 



70 BEOWN STUDIES. 

that lier eyes were full of tears. Those 
rich tones had led her captive, and when 
Jack asked permission to escort her home 
she was in an ecstasy of delight. It was 
only three weeks later that I heard they 
were engaged. 

Of course there is such a thing as love 
at first sight. I am the last man in the 
world to deny it. One feels a thrill at 
the touch of a certain hand which no 
other hand in the world can cause. I 
cannot fathom the mystery, and do not 
care to try 5 but I am sure that two souls 
may be unconsciously hunting for each 
other through the wilderness of society 
for years, and then when they come to 
a hand-clasi), and look into each other's 
eyes, they are both sure that the end of 
their Cjuest has been reached. 

But there is a good deal of what passes 
for love at fii'st sight that is sheer folly, 
and it is a very dangerous thing to go 
on the theory that when the right one 



LOGS AND LOVE. 71 

appears yon will know it at once. A 
great many fatal mistakes have been 
made in tliis direction, and a marriage of 
impulse is likely to be folloTved by a life 
of sorrow. 

Teeny was sentimental and full of 
entliusiasm. What she adored yesterday 
she adored with all her sonl, and conld 
see nothing else. But this morning she 
w^aked np in a different mood, and yester- 
day's gods were displaced to make way 
for new ones. 

So her days and v/eeks passed, amid 
innumerable loves at first sight; but she 
would have been seriously offended if 
you had told her so. 

When Jack appeared she was a mere 
chip in a mill-race. If she had waited 
three months instead of three weeks — 
that is, waited, until the glamour had 
worn off and she had caught a glimpse 
of the rollicking, irresponsible fellow, with 
a conceit that w^as unendurable, and a 



72 BEOWX STUDIES. 

degree of selfishness that was at times 
cruel — she would have married Blue- 
beard rather than him. 

But as she had a fortune in her own 
right, while Jack had almost nothing, he 
kept himself in courteous trim, was as 
devoted as a slave, praised her beauty, 
flattered her vanity, and kept her in a 
whirl and delirium of bliss — until they 
were married. She was all aflame with 
what she thought was lo\'e, never once 
looked at the character of the man, but 
heard only that high tenor voice which 
carried her into the seventh heaven. 

John had added, "It goes out quick." 
Two years later I saw Teeny, and hardly 
recognized her. There were lines on her 
face which it pained me to see, and I 
knew that they were wrought by a sad 
experience. Two years are a long time 
when one suffers ; when a wife wakes up 
to the fact that she and the wrong man 
are traveling life's road together; that 



LOGS AND LOVE. 73 

she has made a mistake from which re- 
covery is impossible ; that the romance of 
life is gone, and nothing is left in its 
stead. 

When my brown study had ended I 
went to the window to look ont into the 
clear night and get my thoughts back to 
the world of beauty that lay all around 
me. The window^ however, gave me only 
a glimpse, and I wanted more. So I 
opened the door and stepped into the 
open air quietly, because I did not care 
to waken Leo 5 but the dear fellow heard 
my footsteps and was instantly at my 
side. 

It was a cloudless night, and the blue 
of the sky was simply indescribable. It 
w^as like a sapphire in color, made bril- 
liant by myriads on myriads of stars. 
Awestruck, reverent, even prayerful, I 
looked and then I sighed. I had no lan- 
guage to express my feelings, but seemed 



74 BBOWy STUDIES. 

to be filled, permeated, by the vision of 
gioiy, which made every nerve tingle 
with delight. 

A few long breaths of the fresh night 
air that swept over the lake, and my day 
was over. I returned to my room^ and 
with a hearty " Good-by, old w^orld/' fell 
asleep. 



CHAPTER IV. 

FAMILIES IN BOXES. 

I HAVE lived liere a little over a month 
now, and feel as though I had been rein- 
ca.rnated. I am not the same man that I 
was in New York. I lived so long among 
all sorts of creatures there that I found 
myself growing cynical ; but since I have 
slept in the woods, where everything is 
honest, loyal to its destiny, and true to 
the high purpose for which it was created, 
I notice that the simplicity and trustful- 
ness and buoyancy of my boyhood are 
coming back. I wake up in the morning 
very light-hearted, leajj out of bed with 
the elasticity of a watch-spring, take a 
sponge-bath with water clear as crystal 



76 BEOJVN STUDIES. 

and cold as frost, and though I shiver at 
first the reaction soon sets in and I actu- 
ally scream with delight. I tingle and 
burn, and my blood goes racing through 
my veins with something of ecstatic fury. 

I have fresh air all night as well as 
all day, for there are innumerable cracks 
and crevices in the walls of my hut ; but 
still I like to take a ten-minute tramp in 
the open by the side of the lake before 
breakfast, for the sake of doing the new 
day the courtesy of saying " Good luck to 
you." The sun is generalty just above the 
spur to the eastward when I hear Sim's 
voice calling me, and I like to doff mj 
hat to him and wish him a pleasant jour- 
ney up the heavenly hill to the zenith 
and down the other side to the horizon. 

We are on good terms, the sun and I, 
and during the livelong da^j his rays 
come through my windows and make 
fantastic figures on the floor. When I 
see them there I think of the terrific pace 



. 



FAMILIES IN BOXES. 77 

at wliich they have traveled, covering the 
ninety million miles between their birth- 
place and my camp in about ten minutes, 
and wonder if they have grown weary 
on the journey. I have often wished I 
could catch a stray beam or two and bid 
them tell me the latest news from that 
wondrous conflagration far away, whose 
heat kisses the earth into blushing buds 
and blossoms, and fills the fields and for- 
ests with a thousand kinds of animal and 
vegetable life. But they evade my grasp 
and tell me nothing, silently straying 
over the floor and walls as though curi- 
ous to know what floor and walls and 
camp are for, and why Leo and I are 
here. 

^^ John," I said, soon after dusk, "what 
have you been doing to-day ? " 

" Nothin' partic'lar, sir," he replied, with 
a drawl, for he likes to be mysterious. 
It is an instinct with the true hunter to 



78 BBOWX STUDIES. 

say little about his luck unless it be 
drawn out under tlie pressure of cross- 
examination, and John is a hunter of the 
old-fashioned tj'pe. So he said " Nothin' 
partic'lar, sir/' but in his heart I knew he 
wanted me to inquire further. 

" What do you call nothing particular, 
John — a couple of partridges or a brace 
of rabbits f" 

Sim smiled, but John was evidently 
offended at my suggestion. 

'^ I've been out since sun-up/' he replied, 
evasively and sententiously. 

"And you have a good eye and a fine 
gun," I suggested. 

" As for the gun, it sends a bullet w^here 
I tell it to, and as for the eye, it mostly 
sees somethin' if there's somethin' in sight. 
But ten hours on a stretch and a brace 
of rabbits — wall, I shouldn't feel like 
comin' hoine to supper." 

" He's got a big buck out in the wood- 
shed," chimed in Sim. 



FAMILIES IN BOXES. 79 

" So, so ! " I cried, in surprise. '" That 
is doing well. The first venison of the 
season, John. We shall have roasts and 
ragonts and steaks and soups, and live 
like lords^ — better than lords, in fact, for 
they seldom have appetites like ours." 

The buck was a beauty. John, it seems, 
had wandered round nearly all day with- 
out catching a glimpse of anything, and 
had about given up when he spied this 
fellow a liimdred yards off to the leeward. 
Then came a rifle-crack, and the graceful 
brute fell in his tracks. 

When I had sufficiently praised John 
for his skill, and properly admired his 
achievement, I said : 

"Now, then, I'm in just the mood for 
a blaze on the hearth ; but none of }'our 
pine, if you j)lease, John." 

" Hickory ? " he suggested. 

" Have you any ? " 

"Not ver}^ much, for it don't grow to 
anv consid'ble extent round here : but I 



80 BROWN STUDIES. 

can pick out enough to satisfy you, I 
guess." 

It was a good fifteen minutes before 
that wood began to burn in dead earnest, 
but there was a kind of solemn dignity 
about it that pleased me. The dry pine 
of the other evening had blazed up in a 
rollicking sort of way, and the flames 
were wild, hilarious, frolicsome, and irre- 
sponsible; but this hickory fire was a 
very different thing — it was calm, serene, 
reposeful. 

" I shall sit up late," I said. 

"The fire will keep jow company as 
long as you please, sir, and then light up 
the room a couple of hours after you are 
asleep. I kinder like oak, because you 
can depend on it. We used to have it to 
home when I was a youngster." 

" Home ! " said John, and I thought 
there was just a tinge of sadness in his 
voice. He stood gazing at the bright 
flames, apparently unconscious of my 



M 



FAMILIES IX BOXES. 81 

presence, and memory seemed busy with 
the past. 

" Your father ? " I ventured to ask. 

"Dead." 

'^ And the mother?" 

"Dead." 

" Sisters or brothers ? " 

"Never had none. The home was 
broken up, and — and here I am." 

With that he went to finish the chores 
for the night. 

" Home ! " I said to my heart, as I 
stroked Leo's head. And I repeated the 
word again and again. 

A^^iat a curious de^dce for the propa- 
gation of the race and for our happiness 
while on the earth the home is ! 

Let me think a moment. I can recall 
that old Greek parable of the origin of 
man and woman. I read it years ago in 
Plato, in the chapter entitled " The Ban- 
quet," and it made so strong an impres- 



82 BEOWX STUDIES. 

sioii on my mind that I have never for- 
gotten it. 

It is Aristophanes, if I remember aright, 
who relates it, thongh about this, and 
also about other details, I may possibly 
get somewhat astray, and, being in the 
woods, must depend on my memory. 
The story runs in this wa}^ : 

When man was created by Zeus, who 
perhaps wanted worshipers, that his van- 
ity might be gratified, he gave him the 
shape of a ball. He had two heads, four 
hands, four legs, and four ears. He must 
have been an uncanny-looking creature, 
and the people on Olympus undoubtedly 
regarded him as a curiosity. Whether 
they thought him a successful experiment 
is not known, but we may imagine how 
they nudged one another and shrugged 
their shoulders as this thing went along 
over the ground like a six-foot sphere. 

It seems that these men were very for- 
midable adversaries even of the gods, for 



FAMILIES IN BOXES. 83 

tliey liad high ambitions and not over- 
much moral principle. They gave Zeus 
a good deal of trouble one way and an- 
other, and more than once he half re- 
pented having undertaken the task. How- 
ever, the thing was done and under the 
circumstances there was nothing left but 
to make the best of it. 

When, later on, these men attempted 
to scale the heavens and rob the gods of 
their authority as well as their posses- 
sions, a council was held to debate the 
serious question what should be done. 
The inferior members of the council 
were rather inclined to favor total de- 
struction of the whole race; but Zeus 
thought he could compass the difficulty 
without resorting to such heroic mea- 
sures. He reasoned that he had endowed 
them with too much strength, and if he 
could reduce the strength he would lessen 
the danger. So he caused all these round 
balls to be cut in two, each having one 



84 BROWN STUDIES. 

head, a pair of arms, and a pair of legs. 
The problem was solved, and we hear 
no more of any attempt to capture the 
celestial palaces. 

But this peculiar condition of things 
ensued : when this creature was a double, 
with all the peculiarities of male and 
female combined, he was satisfied with 
himself; but from the moment when he 
was halved the male and female portions 
were alike discontented. They could not 
remain by themselves, but sought each 
other out and were happ}^ only when each 
had found his or her counterpart. Ever 
since that time the man has only been at 
his best when he has found the other 
half of himself, and the woman has led a 
melancholy sort of life until she has fallen 
into the arms of the man from whom she 
was separated by the sharp knife of Zeus. 

So love was born of a sense of loneli- 
ness, a consciousness that somewhere, in 
some nook or coruer of the earth, there 



FAMILIES IN BOXES. 85 

is the other half of one's soul ] and when 
these two halves come together they see 
the heavens open and the sunlight stream- 
ing on their pathway. 

Then the home is built ! Led by mys- 
terious influences, the man and woman 
look into each other's eyes as they have 
never looked into eyes before, and the 
hand-clasp sends a thrill to two hearts 
which is unlike anything previously ex- 
perienced. Each leaves behind a little, 
lonely world, and together they enter a 
larger world made radiant by love. 

But if the earty years of married life 
are the most ecstatic period of our 
earthly career, they are also the most 
critical, and by no means unattended with 
danger. The first twenty-four months 
after the mutual vows have been made 
are so filled with possibilities, good and 
bad, that I think the good folks up 
above must follow with tender solicitude 



86 BBOWX STUDIES. 

every couple that leaves the altar side by 
side. 

During the time extending over the first 
summer or winter the husband and wife 
see each other in an entirely new light. 
Some things must be a delight, other 
things a disappointment, and all things a 
revelation. The close relations which are 
adopted bring to the surface a great 
many unexpected tendencies and traits 
of character, and it takes a long while 
for the man and the woman to become 
accustomed to each other. If they suc- 
ceed in doing this, the future is secure ; 
if they fail to do this, they must needs 
grow apart, in w^hich case the tragedy 
begins, to end God knows when and 
where. 

It has often occurred to me that dur- 
ing an acquaintanceship, and perhaps 
still more during an engagement, the 
man sees the woman on her best behavior 
— not as her brothers and sisters see her. 



1' AMI LIES IN BOXES, 87 

She is under a restraint — the kind of re- 
straint which the desire to please always 
enforces. She is not her true self — that 
is, she is not her whole self — while his 
eyes are upon her. The better qualities 
are on the surface, and her other qualities 
are kept in the background. The man 
may think he knows her thoroughly, but 
ninety days of married life will show him 
the dark side of the moon, if there is a 
dark side, for then the motive for con- 
cealment is gone. If she is in ill temper 
she shows it, or if she is petulant she 
scolds ; and all her other peculiarities and 
weaknesses are exhibited. 

And the woman sees the man under 
the same searching light. While he was 
paying court to her he was particular in 
his dress, and his language was well 
chosen ; for he wanted her for his own, 
and could not endanger his chances of 
possession by any ebullition that would 
prove offensive. He was diplomatic, be- 



88 BliOWX STUDIES. 

cause he had not won the prize. A single 
rudeness might have been the tm-ning- 
point, and so he held himself carefully in 
cheek. She never heard him in an alter- 
cation, never saw him when he was out of 
sorts and swore at the servants or kicked 
the dog, and was wholly ignorant of the 
traits he showed when in the familiar 
company of other men or in business re- 
lations with them. 

After marriage, however, every restraint 
is loosened, and he does what he pleases 
and gives free vent to his feelings. The 
two are bound together. She cannot get 
away from him, must make the best or 
the worst of him, and so he gradually 
throws aside the courtesies of other days 
— the very things which, perhaps, made 
him attractive to her — and displaj^s pe- 
culiarities wdiich, if she had seen them 
long ago, would have quickly decided her 
against accepting his attentions. 

To a very unpleasant extent, therefore, 



FAMILIES IN BOXES. 89 

a man and woman are strangers when they 
start on their wedding-trip. After they 
find each other out they will either make 
mutual concessions — that is, come close 
together at all points where it is possible 
to do so, and as nearly together as they 
can at ail other points — or there will 
come heart-burnings and mayhap heart- 
breaking. 

The hopeful fact is that in the average 
man there is enough of good to satisfy 
the demands of the average woman, and 
in the average woman enough for the 
average man to build his life's happiness 
upon. 

But if there is selfishness instead of 
concession, and wilfulness instead of lov- 
ing-kindness, it does not need the lips of 
a prophet to forecast disaster. 

The best thing for a couple of sensible 
persons to do who have been married a 
year, and have come to know each other's 
weak and strong sides, is to talk plainly 



90 BIWIVX STUDIES. 

and lay down some plan of action which 
will produce the least friction in the long 
run. 

But women are sensitive and apt to 
endure a slight in silence. Sometimes 
men are sensitiv^e also, and, although they 
are proud of theii* wives' beauty, they 
suffer untold and unfathomable agonies 
when even a slightly flirtatious tendency 
is exhibited. 

Silence under such circumstances is 
the worst policy. Nine times out of ten 
the man did not intend the slight which 
gave pain, and would be only too glad to 
be told of his bad habits of utterance; 
and nine times out of ten the woman 
means nothing by her acceptance of the 
flatteries of other men, and will see the 
matter in its true light if it is brought to 
her notice in the right way. 

If this is not done, and the man be- 
comes dogged and arbitrary, while the 
woman continues her flu'tations because 



FAMILIES IN BOXES. 91 

they afford her the kind of excitement 
she likes, then we cannot say that the 
home will sometime be broken up, for it 
is practically broken up already. Love 
withers -, mutual confidence dwindles and 
soon becomes suspicion. Wlien confi- 
dence is absent, and jealousy takes its 
place, it would be best if the woman 
could be sent to the north pole and the 
man to the south pole, for they only irri- 
tate each other and grow more miserable 
every day. 

It does not follow that I have no right 
to make these criticisms or to give this 
advice because I am a bachelor. On the 
contrary, there are no better judges of 
human nature than such men as I. They 
have nothing to do in society except to 
look on 5 and, in fact, they see so many 
things of the kind I have referred to that 
in many instances you can find therein 
the reason why they prefer to remain 



92 BROWX STUDIES. 

single. A bachelor's eyes and ears and 
intuitions are not good for mneli if lie 
cannot tell which waj^ the wind blows in 
most families by the straws he sees. 

Well, let me continue. When two peo- 
ple determine to live together they look 
about for some place which suits their 
fancy. If they are to live in the country 
they find what is called a house — that is, 
a larger or smaller box^ four walls and a 
roof, with apertures through which they 
can go in and out, and other apertures 
through which they can look. These little 
boxes, painted a variety of colors, are to 
be found in every valley and on every 
road and hill side. 

The interior of this box is subdivided, 
and we have one room to sleep in, an- 
other to eat in, another to cook in, and 
still another to receive oiu* gniests in. 

The whole thing is a curious contri- 
vance, and I wonder what some inhabitant 



FAMILIES IN BOXES. 93 

of Sirius — they say the people up there 
are several miles tall and live thousands 
of years — would think if he should come 
down to the earth and examine with his 
microscope one of these boxes and the 
couple who occupy it. I have no doubt 
he would regard it as a very queer affair, 
just as we do the hill of ants or the hive 
of bees. 

If you go to the city you find long 
rows of these boxes, made of bricks or 
stone, and standing close to one another. 
There are thousands of them, and in each 
one is a little family — father and mother 
and two or three miniature human beings. 

These we call our homes, and they 
mean to us either happiness or misery. 
What an odd arrangement it all must 
seem to one who has never looked upon 
such things before ! 

The mole digs an intricate apartment 
for himself under the sod; the rabbit 
burrows; the bird makes for itself a 



94 BIWWX STUDIES. 

nest ; and man puts a box on the gTound 
in wliicli to find shelter. 

It is all very strange ; but i^erhaps the 
strangest thing of all would be for our 
traveler from Sirius to watch certain of 
these human creatures going down on 
theii- knees, the old and young assuming 
the same attitude, lifting up their hands 
toward the sky, and saying something 
into the air. Would he understand what 
that meant f Would he regard it as an 
eccentricity worth studying, and would he 
like to put a dozen or so of our families 
into his knapsack, as a botanist gathers 
plants, and carry them back to Sirius to 
present to some scientific society as very 
curious specimens of animal life, whose 
habitations are on the plan of the moles' 
burrow or the nests of the birds, onh' 
more elaborate, and therefore indicating 
a larger degree of intelligence ? 

But we will dismiss this Sirian giant 
and his speculations. Whatever our 



FAMILIES IN BOXES. 95 

homes may seem to be to him, they are 
to us the sweetest spots on earth, asylums 
from the cares of life, where man and 
wife may weave the events of every-day, 
like gold and silver threads, into the 
beautiful fabric of domestic happiness. 

A contented home, even though it be 
under the roof of a wooden box, is the 
nearest thing to heaven that we can 
dream of. 

A man and woman who go, not merely 
arm in arm, but heart to heart, through 
woes and joys, getting into sweeter rela- 
tions with every summer and winter, have 
achieved the highest purpose that God 
himself could ask of them. 

"Heigh-ho!" I sighed, at last — for it 
was getting late — "why could not fate 
have given me the chance to make such 
a home f " 

Leo at that moment, as though con- 
scious of the turn my thoughts were tak- 



96 BROWN STUDIES. 

ing, put his head, on my knee, and looked 
into my face as thongh to say, " Kind sir, 
you have had a longer brown study than 
usual this evening, and if jou allow your 
thoughts to ramble as far as Florida there 
will be no sleep to-night." 

Leo was right. A peep at the stars — 
for it was a superb night — a di*aft of 
ice-cold water from the spring, and my 
day's work was done. The hemlock- 
boughs made a splendid mattress, and I 
lay for a while watching the firelight on 
the floor and the walls, and then fell 
asleep. 



CHAPTER V. 

MISTAKES IN MARRIAGE. 

It Avas cold yesterday — decidedly cold 
— and I found I needed my heaviest 
clothing to keep comfortable. The mer- 
cury recorded ten degrees above zero, 
which means twenty-two degrees below 
freezing-point. The wind cut like a knif e^ 
but Leo and I took a tramp of three hours 
through the woods, and when I reached 
camp, just before sundown, I had dis- 
guised myself with rosy cheeks. My 
appetite, however, was that of a giant. 

On consulting my pedometer I found 

that we had covered a little over six 

miles. As I carried a ten-pound gun on 

my shoulder — by the way, it grew to be 

97 



98 BBOJl'X STLDIL'S. 

twenty pounds before I got back — and 
two of the miles were along rising ground 
beyond wliicli was a steep ascent which 
drove my heart-beats from seventy-two 
to eighty, I was gloriously fatigued, and 
felt that I had done a fair day's work. 

I looked into the kitchen, and the 
aroma of supper gave my appetite a 
keener edge. I was delightfully hungry, 
and Sim's smile was the prophecy of good 
things to come. 

" In half an hour," he said, cheerily. 

" All right, Sim ; but make it as short 
a half -hour as you can." 

Then came a dash of cold spring water, 
and I felt like Jupiter Olympus. 

Sim did himself proud on that occa- 
sion, and the supper w^as w^orth special 
mention. 

Eating may be a carnal pleasure for 
aught I know, but since the Lord has be- 
stowed digestive organs upon us there is 
no reason why we should not enjoy their 



4 




LEO AND I TOOK A TKAMP. PuQt ^JS. 



MISTAKi:S IX MAR in AGE. 99 

exercise. It has always seemed queer to 
me that we must maintain life by putting 
certain articles into an aperture in the 
face, and grinding them to proper fine- 
ness by the enginery of the jaws. Still 
that is the arrangement which He saw- 
fit to make, and I have no complaints to 
offer. 

First Sim placed before me a dish on 
which reposed a couple of broiled trout, 
crisp, and with the smell of flames on 
them. They were big fellows, fresh from 
the lake. Their flesh was hard, and the 
bits of curled bacon scattered over them 
gave a flavor which neither man nor an- 
gel could resist. I felt like a king, and 
there seemed to be notliing on earth for 
me to desire. 

And yet I ought not to say that, for 
as I sat at the rude table enjoying this 
royal meal alone a sense of loneliness 
crept over me. I thought of the orange 
grove far away, and Avished with a mo- 



100 BliOWN STUDIES. 

mentary pang in my heart that She were 
there to partake of my sumptiions feast. 
But I soon recognized the inevitable, 
brushed aside the pain with the reflection 
that She was happy even if I was not, and 
tlien helped myself to a second portion. 

" Where did you get them, Sim ? " 

^' Out of the pool just at the mouth of 
the stream." 

'^ Were they gamy ? Did you play them 
long ? Did 3^ou do it with a fly ? " 

He shook his head. " Plain hook, Avorm 
for bait, and I didn't let them fool round 
much, for I was in a hurry. Just hauled 
'em out without any nonsense whatever." 

After the fish, came a juicy, tender, lus- 
cious venison steak, an inch and a half 
thick, and some potatoes baked in the 
hot coals Avith their jackets on. Sim had 
clearly been put on his mettle ; and when 
he brouglit me a cup of black coffee I 
concluded that I had never enjoyed a 
meal so much in my life. It was a cJief- 
cVoeuvre^ and I was proud of my cuisine. 



MISTAKES IN M ABE J AGE. 101 

Then came another roaring fire. The 
flames were somewhat eccentric, though, 
for they dashed a conple of feet from the 
hearth and then with a graceful curl 
turned back and went up the chimney. 
Something had happened to the draft; 
but the effect was artistic aud charming. 

" Suppose I put a green hemlock-bough 
on ? " suggested John. 

"What for?" I asked. 

" Didn't you ever tiy it ? " 

"Never." 

"Then here goes;" and with that an 
armful of the green stuff was laid on the 
flames. 

Such a sputtering and crackling, and 
such an odor filled the room ! 

But all at once the wind seemed to 
come down the chinnie}^, and we were 
enveloped in thick smoke which nearly 
choked us and made it necessary to open 
windows and doors. 

"It's as bad as a scolding wife," re- 
marked John to himself. " There's no 



102 BROWN STUDIES. 

standing it, and you have to get out. no 
matter liow cold it is." 

I hardly know why, but that smoke 
reminded me also of an nnhappy home. 
So I said rather qnizzically : 

" John, yon never married ? " 

He shook his head. 

"Why not?" I asked. 

"Didn't dnrst to. It's pretty risky 
bnsiness,- A single man knows where he 
is all the time. If he gets married he 
may be all broke np or he may not be. 
The chances are agin him." 

With that he shnfiled ont of the room, 
leaving Leo to his dreams and me to my 
thonghts. 

" Is it trne," I asked myself, '' that mar- 
riage is such an uncertain enterprise ? " 

I indulged in reminiscence, recalled one 
by one the houses where I had been enter- 
tained, the families with whom I was on 
familiar terms, the men and women whose 
secrets were rumored in the clubs, and 



MISTAKES IX MARBIAGE. 1G3 

was forced to admit that John was right 
when he said that "the chances were 
agin " a married man or woman. 

But I must discriminate, for I wish to 
be entirety just. It wouhl l)e very stupid 
to dechire that the worhl is all g'ood, and 
equally stupid to assert that it is all bad. 
There is plenty of evil which you do not 
have to hunt for, because it has an inso- 
lent way of thrusting itself to the front ; 
and there is also plenty of good if you 
take pains to look for it. 

Of all men on the earth the one I de- 
spise is the arrant rogue who sees every- 
body else through his own I'oguery. 

The felloAV who sneers at honor in men 
and purity in women because lie never 
had any sense of honor himself^ and long 
ago dispensed with his purity^ is simply 
intolerable. I would rather have some 
one drop an icicle down my back than to 
hear such a one chatter. 

Now, since my business is to tell the 



104 BROWX STUDIES. 

exact truth as I understand it, I wish to 
say, with all possible emphasis, that there 
are many happy marriages. I know some 
couples who have been in each other's 
company for twenty years, and who would 
not exchange their homes for the bliss of 
heaven. The husband and wife are not 
simply bound together by the law of the 
land, but by that kind of love which over- 
comes all obstacles and sweetens every 
sorrow. They would rather be shoulder 
to slioulder with each other, even amid 
somewhat straitened circumstances, than 
side b}^ side with any one else in a palace. 
The old romance still lingers, the old chiv- 
alry persists, and the poetry of other days 
has not changed to prose. 

He brings a rose home with as much 
enthusiasm as he showed before he put 
the wedding-ring on her finger, and time 
has served to mellow rather than efface 
the tenderness with which he regards her. 
She is still his queen, the one most of all 



MISTAKES IN MARE I AGE. 105 

to be desired ; and lie has never once been 
tempted to look into another woman's 
face. She satisfies him, fills his cnp fnll. 
There is nothing* like hnmdrnm in their 
lives, and their sun shines as brightly in 
the afternoon as it did in the morning. 

And she thinks of him .when she is 
shopping, and stops at the confectioner's 
for a paper of bonbons of which he is 
fond, and which will give him a glad sur- 
prise after the long day's work. Proud 
of him ? Why, to hear her speak of him 
yon would think him a god. He is so 
wise, and so good, and so refined, and yet 
so manly ! It would never do to let her 
write his l>iography, for the world Avonld 
hardly recognize the picture she would 
draw. But then the world's opinion is 
nothing; we are only thinking of their 
opiidon of each other. 

Yes, happy marriages there are; and 
do yon know, I thhik mine would have 
been added to the list if She and I had 



1G6 BEOJVK STUDIES. 

gone to the altar together. All, she is 
such a cultured creature, with that refine- 
ment of soul which only nature can give ! 
I have sat in the gloaming in the little 
family parlor and listened to her improv- 
isations at the piano, when she set her 
mood to music, and they are the happiest 
hours within reach of my memory. But 
from pure merriment, with which she be- 
gan, she always dropped after a little into 
the minor key, and played so softly and 
so sadly that I could not keep the tears 
from my eyes. 

I often wonder why this always hap- 
pened; why she should have made the 
keys laugh to begin with and sigh to 
end with. Was it a kind of forecast of 
our future, a prophecy of what was to 
come f 

Well, I must get away from that sub- 
ject. 

Now, if there are happy marriages, 
there are also unfortunate couples who 



i 



MISTAKES IN MAEBIAGE. 107 

made a mistake when tliey selected each 
other. 

The}^ began with castles in the air, and 
they end with mutnal avoidance on every 
possible occasion. 

At first there is no pleasure apart from 
each other; at last there is no pleasure 
unless they are apart. 

Perhaps my observation has been ex- 
ceptional ; but when I think of this puz- 
zling problem I am surprised that I know 
so many j)eople who blundered when they 
got married. 

What is the matter with the world? 
Do people marry too young or too late, 
or is domestic misery a necessary part of 
our discipline ? 

Nonsense. We were never intended to 
be miserable. If we are unhappy it nuist 
be our own fault. 

Perhaps the severest criticism I ever 
heard was made by a lady of exceeding 
refinement. I suspect that in her own 



los nnoTvx studies. 

household there is a dark closet where a 
skeleton is kept, for though she seemed 
to be merely Avitt}^ there was an ominous 
compression of the lips when she said, 
" If YOU wish to keep your influence over 
a man don't marry him." 

Then I indulged in some ver}- serious 
reflections on this subject, and reached 
certain conclusions which are not wholly 
creditable to either men or women. 

First, we marry at a time when we are 
least fitted to judge of the conditions of 
human happiness. The fateful step is 
taken during the romantic period, before 
poetry has given way to reality. A young 
girl fresh from her school-books is not 
equipped either mentalty or emotionally 
for a proper consideration of the marriage 
relation. 

She idealizes her lover. He may have 
the most glaring faults of character, but 
she is totally blind to them. 

Neither by education nor by experience 



MISTAKES IN MARRIAGE. 109 

is slie fitted to discern between tlie quali- 
ties which will make her miserable and 
those which will bring her content. 

She thinks she can be blissfully happy 
in two rooms, and if her father tells her 
nay she regards him as a tyrant. 

Warning does no good to either girls 
or boys, for they are ready to trust a 
volatile passion in preference to common 
sense. To what extent, therefore, is John 
right, when he says that the chances are 
against both him and her? 

If society were so constituted that lov- 
ers could make trial of each other for 
two years of married life, and then decide 
whether they would travel together, how 
many separations would there be at the 
end of the two years? 

How many would discover that '' things 
are not what they seem " ; and how many 
would wonder, after the lapse of that 
experimental period, how it was possible 
for them to make so grave a mistal^e '? 



110 BliOWN STUDIES. 

But society is not so constituted, and 
we therefore live on after onr terrible 
discovery, trying to make the best, or, if 
we are desperate, making the worst of 
our unhapp3^ state. 

The question is, Wliat proportion of 
married people do find out at some time 
that they were never intended for each 
other, and thereafter live comparatively 
separate lis^es ? 

It strikes me that these instances are 
appallingly numerous, and yet I am firml}^ 
convinced that such catastrophes can to 
a certain extent be avoided. If men and 
women will accept and conform to the 
conditions of domestic happiness, the hap- 
piness is likely to follow. 

Of coui'se there are exceptional cases 
where misery is inevitable, as when a 
husband becomes a sot, and so renders it 
impossible for the wife to have any close 
relations with him ; or when, having worn 
out the noveltv of his own home, he seeks 



MISTAKES IX MAKE I AGE. Ill 

the society of other women, and thus makes 
himself repulsive and unendurable to the 
wife who swore to love, honor, and obey, 
but who is freed from the obligation by 
the man's unworthiness. 

Under such circumstances there is posi- 
tively no hope, and it is an infinite pity 
that any woman should be bound to such 
a man. If his life is spoiled by habitual 
viciousness there is no good reason why 
hers should be made a sacrifice to him. 
If his guilt creates a hell she ought not 
to be compelled, either by law or custom, 
to live in it with him. 

Pardon me if I say that the converse is 
also true. If there are women wlio have 
ignoble husbands there are men who have 
unworthy wives. I do not say that there 
are equal numbers in each categor^^ be- 
cause I believe that there are more good 
women in the world than good men ; but 
I have known at least lialf a dozen in- 
stances in which men of sensitive feelings, 



112 BROWN STUDIES. 

high honor, and generous hearts have 
had their lives despoiled by wives whose 
immorality (harsh word), or extravagance, 
or love of excitement, or vicions habits 
liave converted the once happy home into 
the abode of silent, because unspeakable, 
misery. 

I would therefore j)iace men and women 
on an equal footing in these matters, with 
no discrimination in favor of either, and 
declare that no woman's life should be 
spent for an intolerable man, and no man's 
life should be thrown away in order to 
preserve, for purely conventional reasons, 
the hollow and false semblance of a home. 

I am conservative on most subjects, 
but in this matter I am sternly radicah 

Remember that I have been a careful 
observer for twenty years; that I have 
known three men, whose morning of life 
was radiant with hope and enthusiasm 
and ambition, go to a voluntar}^ death 
because the.v could endure the burden 



MISTAKES IX MARRIAGE. 113 

no longer, I do not exculpate them ; per- 
haps they were cowardly to get rid of it 
all in that way. Moralize as you please, 
those are the facts ; and as for myself, I 
knew what they endured, and pitied them. 
And I have watched the fading healtli 
of half a dozen wives. Like willows, 
they bent to the foul breeze. The color 
left their cheeks, the hght left their eyes ; 
they were aged at thirty-five. They sim- 
ply endured, in most cases without a mur- 
mur ; their lives ransacked and looted, as 
though a horde of ruffians had invaded 
the premises and taken away everything 
of value. I followed one such — a patient 
martyr to a brute of a. husband — to Wood- 
lawn, where the body was laid at rest 
When the preacher spoke of the incident 
as an act of Providence I knew, and every 
one else knew, that it was simply murder ; 
not with knife or pistol, but with neglect 
and the poisonous repulsiveness of vice 
in a dozen shapes. 



114 BROWN STUDIES. 

No, I cannot say that in such cases the 
unhappiness of the household can be 
either wholly or partially mitigated. The 
elements of destruction are present, and 
must produce their legitimate results. 
* But this I do assert : that in ordinarj^ 
cases domestic happiness may be largely 
increased, and disagreeable scenes fre- 
quently avoided, by a proper knowledge of 
the rules which ought to govern a couple 
when they undertake to live together. 

I am sure that married people are quite 
too familiar wdth each other. There is 
altogether — and I cannot be too emphatic 
in this declaration — there is too much in- 
timacy on the physical plane. Unless a 
certain amount of reserve is maintained 
the relations of married people become 
common, and to a sensitive soul there is 
an element of vulgarity in them which is 
peculiarly disastrous. 

A woman has a degree of dehcacy 



MISTAKES IN MARRIAGE. 115 

which very few of the other sex appreci- 
ate or understand. If the man sncceeds 
in lowering his wife's spiritnal tone to his 
own coarse level he has not only done 
her a personal injury, bnt he has inter- 
fered with his own happiness. 

He was her ideal at the beginning, and 
to lose any of the prestige which follows 
from that fact is to prodnce a reactive 
repnlsion which destroys the sonl-relation 
of the two. 

There shonld be as mnch courtesy when 
the door of tlie chamber is locked as 
there is in the drawing-room; and yet 
that truth is very seldom recognized. 

A man will indulge in allusions which 
to her modest and shrinking natui*e are 
repellent. She looks at him in wonder, 
hardly knowing what he means. He is 
doing the very thing which in time will 
produce a revulsion of feeling and almost 
make her wish that conjugal relationship 
were not a necessity of marriage. The 



116 BROWK STUDIES. 

freshness whicli courtship held so sacred 
is destroyed by a kind of matrimonial 
sacrilege. 

It seldom happens that a woman lifts 
her husband np to the height of refine- 
ment which she occupies by nature. If 
it could be done marriage would be a 
much more divine arrangement than it is. 
It very frequently happens, however, that 
the coarseness of the man either drags 
the wife down to his level or else pro- 
duces a shrinking from liim which makes 
her unhappy. 

If the wife is once convinced that she 
has no will of her own, but is simply sub- 
ject to his carnal passions, she receives 
a shock from which recovery is very un- 
certain. 

Mutual respect can be maintained only 
by admitting that if he is king she is also 
queen, and that she has equal rights with 
himself. When that respect goes every- 
thing goes Avith it. 



MISTAKES IX MAliBIAGE. 117 

The wife is not the man's property, and 
he cannot do as he pleases. Love is very 
beautiful, bnt it must be reciprocal if it 
is to last, and no man can make a woman 
the object of his physical desires without 
giving her affections a terrible ^AT^ench. 

I assert, therefore, that half the un- 
happy marriages in the world are caused 
by the abandon and license which may be 
legally sanctioned, but which are morally 
criminal. 

And I further declare that the sancti- 
ties of the most mysterious relation in 
our human life should in no degree be 
debased to serve the mere appetite for 
pleasure, and that if they are so debased the 
inevitable consequence will be the injury, 
if not the destructiou, of that higher love 
which makes the home an innocent para- 
dise in which alone the happiness which 
is longed for can be found. 

There is another matter which I should 



118 BBOWN STUDIES. 

like to comment upon, since I am in a 
somewhat critical mood. 

I have noticed that men and women 
may be very fond of and still be very un- 
just to each other. They are good lovers, 
but bad friends. Perhaps it is because 
they love that they are suspicious and 
ev^en jealous — both suspicious and jealous 
without cause. 

If a woman thoughtlessly commits an 
indiscretion she ought to be able to go to 
her husband at once, make a full and free 
confession of her fault, and receive from 
him a chivalrous protection. But the 
marriage relation is such that he will 
probably judge her more harshly than 
any one else ; will magnify the insigTiifi- 
cant lapse, accuse her of all sorts of im- 
proper motives, either grow sullen, and 
remain so for an indefinite period, or else 
make a fuss larger than the Pj^ramid of 
Clieops. Almost every man is quick to 
attribute a bad motive to his wife, and 



MISTAKES IN MAEEIAGE. 119 

the consequent estrangement pushes them 
so far apart that they may never come 
together again. 

She can go to her mother or to some 
lady friend, tell the whole story, and be 
perfectly well understood 5 or possibly she 
may, in her distraction, confide in some 
man whose intimacy with the family war- 
rants such a step, and he will look at the 
affair in a dispassionate way and assure 
her that the fault is venial. He pooh- 
poohs at it, and she finds — fatal mistake ! 
— a larger charity outside her own house 
than the man who of all the people in the 
world loves her best will afford her. 

He is the only one who refuses to be- 
lieve her. He will even regard her con- 
fession, though accompanied by tears, as 
a piece of strategy. Machiavellian in cun- 
ning, with which to mislead him ; and his 
vivid imagination will conjure up all sorts 
of tricks and subterfuges of which in his 
heart he accuses her. He will not give 



120 BROWN STUDIES. 

her credit for repenting of her f anlt, but 
will regard it as her way of getting ont 
of a difficulty which he may hear all abont 
from some officious neighbor. 

He is her husband, and ought to know 
her better than her mother does ; but for 
some reason he is the one man who per- 
sistently misunderstands her, and swiftly 
makes the worst possible case of an inci- 
dent which really means nothing. 

If she is conscious of this habit on his 
part, she oftentimes comes to the conclu- 
sion that the easiest waj^ out of the dilem- 
ma is to deceive him. A marriage is a 
good deal like a lump of silver with a 
seam of lead in it, when a woman thinks 
it necessary to tell a falsehood rather 
than suffer from a jealousy which has no 
foundation. 

If the wife reaches the dehberate con- 
clusion that there are some things which 
her husband must not know, domestic 
happiness is like a building with a crack 



MISTAKES IN MABRIAGE, 121 

in its outer wall, and which may tumble 
into ruins at any moment. 

Perfect confidence is the primary con- 
dition of a health}^ relation between a 
man and a Avoman who are Hving under 
the same roof ; and when that confidence 
is shattered disaster is sure to follow, or, 
what is much worse, a continual friction 
is produced which spoils the life of the 
man, sends the woman into society for 
the sake of excitement, and perhaps breaks 
the hearts of both. 

Let me emphasize my statements by an 
illustration. Jack and Madge Curtison 
had a very bright future w^hen they left 
the church on their wedding-trip. Slip- 
pers and rice attested the good-will of 
every one in the circle of their friends. 
They were apparently as well suited to 
each other — so I thought when I stood at 
the back of the church and saw them at 
the altar — as any couple that ever ex- 



122 BliOWK STUDIES. 

changed vows. It was a genuine love- 
match. Jack was Madge's champion in 
his boyhood, and I don't know that he 
ever seriously cared for any one else. 

There were only two criticisms which 
the cynic could make : he was just a bit 
jealous and she was just a bit thoughtless. 
However, we are not archangels, and it 
was thought that such superficial faults 
as these would disappear in time. There 
was nothing on which to base a prophecy 
of disagreement or unhappiness, for they 
both had a degree of common sense. 

One day Jack was called to Chicago on 
business, and parted with his little w^ife 
with great regret, for she could not ac- 
company him. He took the train on 
Thursday night, and within two hours it 
began to snow. It snowed steadily all 
the next day until five o'clock, Avhen a 
slight rain fell, which packed the snow^ 
hard and made the most magnificent 
sleighing. Saturday morning the mercury 



MISTAKES IN MARRIAGE. 123 

fell to ten above, and the air was crisp, 
sharp, exliilarating. 

Tom Nevins was an old admirer of 
Madge, and — I say this in confidence — 
had some slight hopes in the old days. 
But thongh Madge liked him and, as she 
once told me, was very fond of him as a 
friend, she never in her wildest moments 
dreamed of him as a husband. Indeed, 
the distance between them was so great 
that he never got near enough to make 
love to her in earnest. At arm's-length 
Madge thought him a royal good fellow ; 
but as a lover she looked upon him with 
a feeling of repulsion. 

Tom kept up his intimacy with both 
Jack and Madge for a year after their 
marriage, and then just the shadow of a 
suspicion came over Jack^s heart. There 
was no reason for it, since Madge was as 
devoted as wife could be. Then Tom's 
visits were less frequent. 

On this particular occasion Tom called 



124 BBOWN STUDIES. 

at Madge's with an invitation to take a 
dash through the park. The two horses 
were champing their bits at the door. 
Merry bells were heard everywhere. The 
snow was clean and iridescent in the 
sunshine. Sleighing was Madge's delight. 
She had been the central figure in many 
a moonlight party of that kind, for her 
vivacity and love of fun were simply 
boundless. 

Without givdng the matter a moment's 
consideration, thinking only that Tom 
was more than kind to call for her, clap- 
ping her hands and crying, " How dehght- 
ful ! " she rushed from the room, and in 
ten minutes reappeared fully equipped in 
rich furs. 

She did look beautiful, I must confess, 
with her sparkling blue eyes and rosy 
cheeks; and Tom may be excused if he 
felt proud to have such a companion. 

Well, they had a merry time. But 
Avhen it was all over, and Madge was 



MISTAKES IX MA RE I AGE. 125 

going up the steps, Bella Fremont met 
her. Bella had a critical element in her 
nature, and, besides, had once on a time 
cast longing glances at Tom. They were 
not returned, however, and the indignity 
was never forgiven. 

Bella simply said " Ah ! " as she passed, 
and then, for the first time, Madge saw 
that she had committed an indiscretion. 
Her red cheeks became white, and her 
beautiful e3^es filled with tears of vexa- 
tion at her own stupidit}'. 

That night she had little sleep. What 
would Jack say f How should she explain 
it to him? She heard the clock strike 
one, then two, then three ; and after that 
she dropped into wek^.ome forgetfulness. 

She concluded, after long debate, to tell 
Jack the whole stor}'^, and trust to his love 
to forgive. '' It's the best way," she said, 
rather mournfully; '^at any rate, I shall 
preserve my own self-respect, for I posi- 
tivelv cannot deceive him." 



126 BBOWX STUDIES. 

So when Jack returned she awaited her 
opportunity and told him everything. 

I have ah-eady intimated that he had a 
jealous temperament. 

I can only add that he didn't believe a 
word she said. 

He shrugged his shoulders, flushed in 
the face, and muttered an oath or two 
while she was talking. When she had 
finished he went to the window, thrust 
his hands into his pockets, and whistled. 

" It's perfectly clear," he said to himself. 
^^ She tells me because she is afraid not to. 
Look at it. I go away. The moment I 
am out of sight one of her old lovers 
turns up with a couple of horses and a 
sleigh. She goes off and has a gay time. 
She has grown tired of me already. She 
wants more excitement than my presence 
can afford her. Yes," and he sighed pro- 
foundly, ^^ I see how it is.'^ 

That wound was never healed. To this 



MISTAKES IN MARRIAGE. 127 

day Jack believes that Madge is wilful 
and a coquette. 

They drew apart, and in the course of 
two years he had plenty of reason for 
complaint. He created, by his want of 
confidence, the very faults which he un- 
justly attributed to her. Had he taken 
her in his arms in that hour of confes- 
sion ; had he told her that she had done 
him a great wrong, but he believed every 
word she said, and would never refer to 
the subject again, she would be his happy 
wife to-day without doubt. But he was 
her worst enemy and his own worst ene- 
my. He had a black look on his face; 
he was sarcastic ; he gave her plainly to 
understand that he suspected her; he 
spent his evenings at the club, and studi- 
ously neglected her. 

Last year they were so far apart that 
a legal separation w^as obtained. Jack is 
a cynical, sour, crabbed fellow, who de- 



128 BROWN STUDIES. 

lights in making bitter remarks about 
women ; and she — well, let the subject 
drop. 

The truth is, Jack was Madge's hus- 
band, but not her friend. He was harsher 
in his judgment than he would have been 
to any other woman imder the same cir- 
cumstances. 

Women may be angels, but at the same 
time they are human. Men may be hon- 
orable, but sometimes thej" are fiendish 
toward those they love best. 

God pity us, say I, when we are in a 
jealous mood; for all the imps of Satan 
are let loose upon us like a pack of hounds 
on a deer. 

At this point the clock on the mantel 
struck twelve, a very late hour for the 
woods. The fire had gone out, and only 
a few charred bits remained, which gave 
a fitful blaze, as though they had grown 
weary. 



4 



Al INTAKES IN MARRIAGE. 129 

Leo roused himself, yawned, and seemed 
to wonder wliat liad kept me up so far 
into the night. 

I had, however, only half finished my 
task. Bnt there will l)e other chapters to 
this little book, and perhaps I shall take 
the subject up again. So I said good- 
night to the world and lay down on my 
hemlock-boughs. 



CHAPTER VI. 

MY LOST MARGARET. 

Something haj)peiied yesterday which 
affected me veiy strangely. 

Before I left New York I arranged to 
have my letters and papers sent to the 
village on the edge of which I took canoe 
for the camp. 

Of conrse I had closed up all my busi- 
ness affairs, for in case of accident I like 
to feel that my heirs will have as little 
trouble as possible. There is no reason, 
why a man should not go out of the world 
carrying with him a complete set of clear- 
ance papers, and I take great pride in the 
fact that when I join "the innumerable 
130 



MY LOST MAliGARET. 131 

caravan" no expert accountant will be 
needed to straighten out my books. Be- 
fore I started for this place, therefore, I 
paid every bill, and now have the plea- 
sant consciousness that no man can say I 
owe him a dollar. The last thing I did 
was to make my will and deposit it in 
the vault of my bank, with directions on 
the envelope as to whom it is to be de- 
livered if I chance to go to heaven by 
way of the woods rather than of the city. 

It is a comfort to feel that no one will 
be harassed and fretted on my account. 
I shall step into the shadow with an easy 
mind ; and if on my way to the stars I am 
permitted to look back I may perhaps see 
my heirs and assigns in a furious quarrel 
over the few thousands of which I stand 
seized and possessed ; but they will not 
have the satisfaction of calling me an old 
fool for leaving my business matters in 
a tangle. 

Some of my friends promised to write 



132 BROWN STUDIES. 

two or three times during tlie winter, and 
I was sure there must be at least a bushel 
of newsj^apers awaiting my order. So 
five days ago — that was Tuesday — I 
packed John off for letters, papers, and 
whatever additional provisions we might 
need during the long spell of cold weather 
that may set in at any time. The lake 
and streams are still open, but cannot re- 
main so much longer. This was my last 
chance to communicate with the outside 
barbarians who delude themselves with 
the idea that they are civilized and that I 
am a savage ; and John was not unwilling 
to take the trip. 

He got back yesterday afternoon — that 
is to say, on Saturday. 

There was one very amusing letter from 
an old chum of mine — a member of the 
Stock Exchange — full oi dry humor, and 
reminding me that it was not necessary 
to go into the Adirondacks to find wild 
animals, for Wall Street is full of them. 



MY LOST M AUG ABET. 133 

He gave me a quantity of gossip — by tlie 
way, liow tame and insipid gossip seems 
wlien one is living a real life in intimate 
relations witli the mysteries and grandenr 
of nature ! — and ended by hoping that if 
it was to be my fate to furnish a banquet 
for a bear, I might agree with him — that 
is, with the bear — and not eost him — that 
is, the bear — a fit of indigestion. 

There was also a letter from a melan- 
cholic, grumpy, cynical old society man, 
who is a good deal like a chestnut in 
its burr. The outside will sting you as 
though it took pleasure in doing so, while, 
if you have patience to work your way to 
the fruit inside, you will be amply repaid 
for your pains. He took a fancy to me 
years ago — why, I never could divine, but 
possibly because I have always been at- 
tractive to cranks — and has steadfastly 
remained my friend ever since. His 
epistle resembled a mustard-pot, for every 
taste bit the tongue in a fresh place. 



134 BBOJVX STUDIES. 

One 3^omigsterj lie wrote, had gone to 
Europe for his health, which was another 
way of saying that he had been unmerci- 
fully jilted and wanted to get out of the 
way for a time, until the sneers and jeers 
of his set had been wafted into oblivion. 
Another youngster had married a couple 
of millions plus a rather good-looking 
girl. Maud Mercer had attended her first 
ball in No. 2 slippers and a shockingly 
decollete dress, and old Badger, cetat. 
seventy-seven, had been placed under a 
monument which cost twelve thousand 
dollars. The funeral services were sol- 
emn, and the clergj-man told the usual 
assortment of falsehoods in order to com- 
fort the young widow, who would very 
soon find comfort in another way. 

Curiously enough, these two letters 
grated on my feelings. They seemed so 
out of harmony with my surroundings. 
The lake and the woods, the sky and the 
stars, had been talking to me for sixty 



Jjy LOST MAliGAUET. 135 

days in the language of repose, and here 
came an echo from the din and hubbub 
of a crowd of match-makers and dollar- 
makers and fashion-worshipers. I felt as 
I should if a false note were sounded as 
T listened to an orchestra, or as a lover 
would if the dear one to whom he was 
offering- lieart and hand should reject 
him in the slang of low life. What the 
woods had been telling me was so differ- 
ent from this tattle of so-called high life 
that the letters seemed filled with a kind 
of vulgarity ; and so, mthout thinking of 
what I did, I tore them up and threw 
them into the fire. 

The third letter was from my cousin 
Cora^ who, as T have told you, lives in 
Florida, within three miles of that orange 
grove where She dwells. I sat for some 
time without opening the envelope, in a 
brown study. Every minute detail of my 
courtship, from my first hope to my last 
disappointment, came vividly to mind, 



136 BIIOJI'X STUDIES. 

and I found myself reciting to Leo and 
the flames in the fireplace a poem of 
whicli I was once guilty. It expressed 
my feelings at the time, and the ten years 
that have since passed have not changed 
them. It ran somewhat in this wise : 

Only one face in all the world for me, 

Though I am told there's beauty everywhere : 
It may be so ; I neither know nor care, 

For that one face is all that I can see. 

There is one smile so fills this heart of mine 
I need no sunshine on the path I tread. 
Beneath its sweet enticement, fear and dread 

Are changed to hope by alchemy di^ane. 

A laggard svas I till I saw that face ; 

I had no goal until I saw that smile ; 

But now I run, and spurn each conquered mile, 
For liigh ambition drives me on apace. 

Though all unworthy I may seem to be, 

Yet give me more, nay, dear one, give me all ; 
Without uplifting strength I fear to fall, 

For what I am, I am through love of thee. 

I don't know that it has any merit as 
a literary composition, neither do I much 
care. I told the truth as faithfuUv as a 



MT LOST MARGARET. 137 

mirror reflects a man's face, and the smile 
witli which she thanked me after reading- 
it has been a kind of rainbow in my sky 
ever since. 

At last I opened the letter and read as 
follows : 

"Dear Clarence: The autumn has 
been specially ]:)eantiful in this region, and 
I wish you were with us, for I am sure 
you would find more enjoyment than that 
horrid solitude and the ice and snows and 
dripping woods of the Adirondacks can 
furnish." 

Then followed some personal matters 
in which you would take little interest. 
But at the end were these paragraphs : 

" By the way, Clarence, I am sorry to 
say that Edward Randall is in a very pre- 
carious condition. I drove over to their 
grove day before yesterday, and found 
Margaret in a state of mind. I tell you 
privately that that woman is not happy. 
There is a dras^o-ed look in her face, and 



138 BEOWN STUDIES. 

she has become hollow-cheeked and siink- 
en-eyed. She is not hke her old self at 
all^ and yet a truer wife never lived. I 
can't quite say whether she ever loved — 
I mean really loved — Edward or not. 
That is a puzzle which I don't pretend to 
guess. But she is untiring in her atten- 
tion to his ever}^ wish, and seems to find 
her own happiness in making him happy. 

"I am afraid, however, that there's 
trouble in store for them. The doctor, 
whom I saw on my way home, seemed to 
think that Edward might pull through ; 
but he added that the poor fellow had 
very little reserve power, and nobody 
could tell what miglit happen. 

"I judge that they are pinched. The 
crop was poor last year, and as that is all 
they have to depend on, they must be 
somewhat anxious about their future." 

I read that letter tmce, and then slowly 
the third time. Standing: in front of tlie 



MY LOST MARGARET. 139 

fire, my eyes filled with tears while the 
past slowly recalled itself. My own life 
had been broken, but what of hers ? A 
man can endure anything, but a woman 
— well, I don't know. 

For a full half-hour I stood still and 
pondered. My first thought Avas to send 
a check to my cousin that the little house- 
hold might be kept together. " What do 
I want of money if She is suffering from 
need of it ?" I asked myself. The thought 
that she was weary with much watching; 
that she could not command the comforts 
of life, was excruciating. True, she was 
not my wife ; true, we had parted in anger, 
but what of it? My love Avas not dead, 
and could not die. I had tried again and 
again to forget her, but love is such a 
mysterious thing, and so mighty and so 
subtle, possibly so unreasoning, that in 
spite of all I was at her service with all I 
possessed. 

He is sick and she is tired! Then I 



140 imojrx jsTuviES. 

groaned in spirit, for to be a tlionsand 
miles away at sucli a time is an unendur- 
able hardship. Woidd that I might an- 
nihilate space and time and, by simply 
wishing, transport myself to that sorrow- 
ing home to offer my help and my sym- 
pathy to both. 

What happiness to knock at the door, 
to enter that sick-chamber and sa}", " Here 
I am, and I am going to stand hj yon. 
Be happy. Get well, Edward. Enjoy the 
years to come around this hearthstone. 
I have but little, but that little is yours. 
The wolf shall be kept awa}^ There are 
anxieties enough without being anxious for 
food and the money to pay the rent withal." 

Ah, I thought, if I could only do that ! 
Would I were such a magician ! 

I looked out of the window. Darkness 
everywhere. I looked into my own soul. 
Darkness there, also ; withered years, as- 
pirations, ambitions. I was like a tree 
that had put forth blossoms and then 



MY LOIST MAUGAEET. 141 

been touclied by a nipping frost. I was 
a worthless Imman creature, a kind of 
arrested develo23nient ; my past a tragedy, 
my f Litiu'e hopeless. I leaned against the 
mantel, the letter in my left hand, while 
these crushing memories overwhelmed me 
like an avalanche. 

"The doctor'' — so my cousin wrote — • 
" seemed to think that Edward might pull 
through ; but — " 

Then I turned pale and trembled. Sup- 
pose he should not pull through? If he 
were to die, what then? My strength 
failed me, and I sank into a chair. Leo 
came to my side, looked into my face in- 
quiringly, then laid his dear head on my 
knee in sympathy. 

" Ah ! Leo," I cried, in anguish, " this is 
a bitter world, a strange world." 

What imaginings came to me ! If the 
sick man should fulfil the prophecy of 
the doctor, then she would once more be 
free! Audi? 



112 BROWN STUDIES. 

Does any remnant of the old love re- 
main in lier heart ? Does she ever think 
of me, or have I been obliterated by the 
passage of time f 

And if she has the embers of that love, 
conld I fan them into a new flame, and 
even at this late honr hold her to my 
heart as my wife ? 

These nnworthy and ignoble thoughts 
seized me, but they held me only for an 
instant. ^' My God !-' I cried, ^' what am I 
saying ? " and I paced the floor like a mad- 
man. " To use another man's misfortune 
for my own benefit ! What devil put the 
suggestion into my mind ? '' 

I was indignant, even furious, with 
myself. I hated myself, despised myself, 
and condennied my conduct with ojipro- 
brioiis epithets which made Leo wonder. 

I think that in some way he got an ink- 
ling of my cowardice and shared my own 
opinion of it, for he walked slowly away 



MY LOST MARGARET. 143 

from me, lay down in a corner, and uttered 
a growl. 

"Even the dog despises me," I said, 
"and well lie may." I am sure I never 
passed siicli an hour as tliat wliicli fol- 
lowed these impious thoughts ; no, not in 
all my life. I seemed to dwindle in stat- 
ure ; felt myself shrinking into a hideous 
dwarf with a hump between his shoulders, 
a creature that needed only to l)e seen to 
be loathed. 

I could stand the strain no longer, for 
I was choking, and my heart thumped 
against my ribs with the force of a black- 
smith's sledge. So I rushed out of doors 
into the accusing night, to ask the for- 
giveness of God and make my peace with 
nature. The canoe was at the landing, 
and in my desperation I leaped into it 
and rowed far away toward the middle of 
the lake. 

Perhaps the physical exertion helped to 



144 BllOWN ^STL'JJlES. 

calm me. At any rate, I soon regained 
partial control of mj^self . 

Such a night that was ! The moon was 
gone, but I hardly missed her, for the 
myriad stars shone with unwonted luster, 
and the Milky Way lay athwart the hea- 
vens like a vast bank of phosphorescent 
snow. 

The sky seemed to bend over me in a 
motherly and pitying sort of way, and 
nature, I am sure, understood my secret 
and s\anpathized with my mental distress. 
At an}' rate, as I lay on my oars and 
watched the deep shadows of the hills on 
either side of the lake, I could feel the 
velvet touch of unseen hands on my fore- 
head, as though trying to soothe my per- 
turbed soul. 

I was all alone, and yet in the most 
friendly company. The evil thoughts 
and horrid imaginings which had peopled 
my brain like a crowd of brutal roughs 
had silently taken their departure, and 



MY LOST MARGARET. 145 

left me to the sweet infiuences of the 
scenery around and above me. I felt 
that I could not be vile in such an envi- 
ronment. That rush of selfishness which 
for a time made me half rejoice in the 
misfortune that had befallen Her home, 
forget the strange malady which was 
dragging Her dear one down to the grave 
day by day, and think only of the possible 
realization of the dream of my youth, 
bought at so terrible a price of tears and 
sorrow — all that left me, and I shuddered 
at the thought of my utter un worthiness 
and baseness. Never before have 1 so 
hated mj^self, for never before have I so 
fallen in my own respect and sense of 
lionor. 

I have always loved the stars, and can 
call many of them by name. They are 
steadfast friends who never fail you, and 
on that awful night the^^ did me a kindl}^ 
service which I shall not forget. Had 
each one of them been a white-robed 



146 BEOWX STUDIES. 

angel whispering words of comfort into 
my ears, tliey could not have ministered 
more effectually to my troubled heart. 

Far away in the north, and just above 
the horizon-line, was Vega, one of the 
most beautiful of heavenly objects, "a 
vigorous light that darts surprising rays." 
I do not wonder that the ancients chris- 
tened this constellation Lyra, and tried to 
make themselves believe that it resembled 
the lyre which Apollo gave to Orpheus, 
on which he played with such subtle skill 
that even the rivers ceased to fioAv, lest 
the rippling of their waters might inter- 
fere with the di^dne music. 

Then, when my eyes followed one of 
the great circles, I saw that exquisite 
group of stars, the Swan, with the little 
Dolphin just to the westward, and the 
magnificent sc[uare of Pegasus, with Cas- 
siopeia overhead and Andromeda lying at 
full length to the south. 

Farther toward the east was a most 



MT LOST MABGABET. 147 

enchanting spectacle, and one that I never 
look at without being strangely im- 
pressed: Algol, like a torch in a giant's 
npiifted hand, mild-featured Oapella, the 
rival of Vega, with the Pleiades in near 
vicinity, and that lighthouse on some 
rocky point of space, fiery Aldebaran. 

But great Orion Avas well above the 
horizon at nine o'clock on this 12th of 
December, and when he makes his ap- 
pearance nothing else seems worthy of 
attention. There is a certain grandeur 
in that assembly of celestial orbs which 
has excited the wonder of the learned 
and the superstition of the ignorant since 
those early days when thoughtful shep- 
herds watched their flocks by night and 
formulated some rudiments of astronomy. 
On the upper left is Beltiguese, and on 
the lower right is Rigel, two huge bon- 
fires which seem to light up the heavens 
as though they were new signals of some 
great battle that has been fought and 



148 BBOWX STUDIES. 

won. Between them are the three stars 
which form Orion's belt, and just beneath 
it — not visible to the naked eye, but fairly 
seen through a good field-glass — is that 
marvelous nebula, that cloud of star-dust 
floating in space, which not even the 
mightiest telescopes can resolve into sepa- 
rate particles of light. 

This was the glorious company in 
which I found myself on that winter 
night. Each star was a member of the 
great Parliament of Nature ; and such 
w^as the influence of the august gathering 
that my cheeks burned with shame at the 
petty meanness in which I had indulged. 
These stars, so imperial in their splendor, 
were the House of Lords in the kingdom 
over which the Almighty is ruler. 

For two hours I sat in that boat in the 
middle of that lake ; and when at last I 
became chilled and numb I rowed back 
to the camp with a new heart in my 
bosom. 



MY LOST M AUG A RET. 149 

I felt that I was less than nothino;; 

to J 

that so far as I had any authority at all 
I must use it without regard to my own 
happiness or advantage 5 that selfishness 
is debasing and ignol)le. 

I honestly believe that, for the time 
being at least, I forgot all about myself, 
and thought pityingly of that hearth- 
stone amid the orange-trees, where my 
successful rival was slowly giving w^ his 
hold on life, and where the woman who 
still held my heart in her hand, but was 
not conscious of that fact, walked with 
slippered feet, lest she might disturb the 
slumber of the sufferer, and was perhaps 
at that moment tearfully pleading with 
the Lord to spare her the bereavement 
which might befall at any moment. 

When I reached home I Avas met at the 
door by Leo, who had evidently been 
wondering why I had absented myself. 
First of all, in the hope of washing away 
the sin I had committed, I knelt and 



150 BliOll'X STL'VIJlS. 

prayed for Her, that ahe might not need 
to drink the bitter cup of sorrow; and 
then for him, her husband, that he might 
live and be happy in the love of his wife. 

Yes, I sighed as I rose from my knees, 
bnt not from regret for the words I had 
spoken. I sighed, for it seemed as though 
God had already answered my petition 
and left me to go on to old age alone. 
And yet, though sighing, I was proud of 
my victory over myself, proud that I had 
learned the lesson taught by the stars, 
proud that I had a degree of true manli- 
ness which needed only to be developed. 

It may seem strange to you, but when 
I voluntarily renounced the hope which 
I had suddenty entertained, and deter- 
mined to 23rovide for that stricken house- 
hold even if it took the last remnant of 
my slender fortune, I was filled with a 
serene contentment, a quiet kind of hap- 
piness which was worth a thousand times 
the sacrifice that I was willing to make. 



MY LOST MARGARET. 151 

I threw a couple of pine logs on the 
glowing embers, sat for another hour in 
serene and pleasant contemplation^ then 
crawled into my corner and fell into the 
sweetest sleep I have had for many a long 
day. 

I can now recall that my last words 
were, '^ She shall not suffer want, and he 
shall have the best medical skill that 
money can command. God bless them 
both." 



CHAPTER VII. 

A man's world. 

The winter has been a remarkably 
open one until a fortnight ago — that is, 
the 1st of January. I took long trips on 
the lake, with Leo for my sole companion, 
and flatter myself that I have become a 
skilled oarsman ; but a sudden change in 
the weather put a stop to my pleasure, or, 
rather, gave me a different kind of plea- 
sure in which to indulge. 

The mercury, at the time I speak of, 
dropped to zero, and the air cut my cheeks 
as though it were fiUed with pounded glass. 
For two days the mercury held its own, 
and then, in a moment of caprice, fell to 
152 



A MAN'S WOBLD. 153 

ten degrees below. While I was in tlie 
woods it was necessary to strike a rapid 
gait to keep myself from turning into an 
icicle; and when I was in my sitting- 
room, with a roaring fire, I was roasted 
on one side and half frozen on the other. 
But I was greatly exhilarated, and ex- 
ceedingly enjoyed being alive. 

The lake had a thick covering of ice 
which seemed like a mirror for the sun 
by day and the full moon and stars by 
night. 

Sim, who is an inventive sort of crea- 
ture — a fellow of infinite resources — saw 
me standing on the shore one morning, 
and asked if I would like to take a sail. 

I natural^ supposed he was joking, 
and asked him what he proposed to do 
with the ice. 

"I mean a sail on the ice," he replied. 
"Have you never been on an ice-boat, 
sir?" 

On answering him with a shake of the 



154 BROWN STUDIES. 

head, he remarked, " Then I'll give you a 
new sensation, sir." 

In a few hours he had made and rigged 
a very picturesque contrivance. The run- 
ners were some skates which we had 
brought with us, and the sail was a huge 
horse-blanket. 

That afternoon Leo and I went on our 
first voyage of discovery. I am an old 
yachtsman, and have a pretty fair know- 
ledge of all sorts of craft, but this ice- 
boat gave me a good many surprises. 
Leo sat on his haunches at my side, and 
looked at me as though to say, "I don't 
quite see how we are to come out of this 
affair alive ; but a St. Bernard knows how 
to die with his master, if need be, and so 
look after yourself, and I will hold on if 
I can." 

When we got off, the wind blew gently 
and steadily for a while, which was lucky, 
since it gave me a chance to get used to 
my yacht; and I don't think I ever en- 



A MAN'S WOULD. 155 

joyed anything mt)re. But when we 
reached Tala Point, about a mile from 
the camp, there came a squall down the 
mountain- side, and for a few minutes I 
was a good deal excited. The craft 
struck the pace of a whirlwind, and the 
rnnners glided over the ice with the 
sound of fairy nnisic. I held the tiller 
in one hand, the main-sheet in the other, 
and actually screamed with ecstasy. But 
soon the wind changed to a mere puff 
again, and we jogged along at the insig- 
nificant rate of ten or fifteen miles an 
hour. 

When I tacked, and held the wind on 
the beam, my little boat tilted at an a.ngle 
of forty-five degrees, and I had all I could 
do to hold my place. Poor Leo had much 
more than he could do, for he fell off, but 
instantly gathered hiniself together, and 
with a merry bark— for he, too, was ex- 
eited— gave me chase. He struck his best 
gait; but the wind had freshened, and in 



156 BROWN STUDIES. 

a couple of miniites he was so far beliind 
that he looked like a mere puppy. I 
tacked once more, to give him a chance 
to catch np ; but when he made a curve in 
order to reach the yacht he tumbled and 
slid over the glassy surface for nearly ten 
rods. 

When he took a seat at my side again, 
panting, but as near to laughter as a dog 
ever comes, he fairly winked at me, as 
much as to say, " That was a fine joke on 
your part, wasn't it ? You tipped me off 
of your old ice-boat on purpose ; now 
don't deny it. I'm not angry, though, for 
I had a very good run, and feel all the 
better for it." 

We had this sport both morning and 
afternoon for three days, and I think Leo 
enjoyed it as much as I did. 

On the 4th of the month Sim was 
standing with me in the doorway, and 
remarked, sententiously : 

^^ Storm coming ! " 



A MAN'S WORLD. 157 

"A storm?" I said. "What do you 
mean ? Tlie sun is bright, there is scarcely 
a cloud anywhere 5 the wind blows from 
the westward, and there is every indica- 
tion of good weather. Why do you think 
a storm is brewing ? " 

" Rheumatics," he answered. " Got 'em 
in my elbow, and that elbow never made 
a mistake. Storm sure before midnight, 
and I guess itll be snow." 

At the end of this colloquy I said, 
" Sim, will you do me a favor ? " 

'' Certainly," he replied. 

" I want you, sometime, when it is con- 
venient, and you feel in the mood, to tell 
me about the experience you had with 
the ghost. Am I asking too much? I 
do not wish to pry into any secrets, but 
I am interested in that sort of thing, and 
rather tlnnk I have seen one or two ghosts 
myself. If you have no objection I should 
like to have you tell me what happened 
on that occasion." 



158 BROWN STUDIES. 

Sim hesitated, but at last replied, " All 
right, sir; but you know a man doesn't 
like to be laughed at, or taken for a fool, 
and—" 

''Don't fear anything of the kind," I 
broke in. " My dear fellow, I shall treat 
the subject very seriously, I assure you, 
for I am inclined to believe that spirits 
do sometimes linger near the earth for a 
time, if they have any reason to do so." 

So the matter was settled. 

At about nine o'clock that night it 
began to snow. The flakes were at first 
just like wool, and they fell with great 
deliberation, as though they had begun 
a long task and proposed to take it 
leisurely. 

And it snowed so effectively and so 
generously that by the next evening the 
stumps in the clearing were covered. Then 
came a half -hour's rain, after which the 
mercury took another drop, and left every- 



A MAN'S WORLD. 159 

tiling with such a thick crust that one 
could walk on it. 

It was a dazzling* spectacle which met 
our eyes when the sun rose in the morn- 
ing. It seemed as though the powers 
above had showered diamonds and opals 
on the earth. 

John said, ^'This is my chance, and I 
must be off." 

'' Chance for what ? " I asked. 

^' For game." 

'' Why so, my dear fellow ? " 

" Because a deer, with its sharp hoofs, 
will cut through the crust and get quickly 
tired out." 

It seemed to me a mean advantage to 
take, but John told me we were nearly 
out of fresh meat, and it was necessary 
for some one to go into the woods. 

At about seven the next evening Sim 
brought in some splendid hickory logs, 
and built such a fire as Avould have done 



160 BROWN STUDIES. 

yoii good to see. I sat before it ponder- 
ing all sorts of subjects, but at last fell 
into a brown study in wliicli She figured 
conspicuouslj^ That gave way after a 
while, and then my thoughts ran as fol- 
lows : 

The earliest tribute and the most deli- 
cate ever paid to woman was offered by 
Adam just before his expulsion from 
Eden, The record of it is to be found in 
a very greatly misunderstood passage of 
Scripture. 

I am not much of a scholar, and should 
scarcely venture to interpret Scripture 
on the authority of my own knowledge. 
But I have an old classmate, John Jessig, 
who has studied these matters profoundly. 
He is settled, I believe, in a little village 
named Woodbine, and preaches to a con- 
gregation of mill-hands. 

I had a long talk with him one day in 
his library, just after my great disappoint- 
ment : and being in somewhat cynical 



A MAN'S WOULD. 161 

mood — for my wounds were all fresh at 
the time — railed at the inconstancy and 
caprice of woman. Perhaps I spoke bit- 
terly, but if so I think I may claim some 
indulgence, for when a man's life has been 
suddenly crushed you can hardly expect 
him to bear his burden graciously. In a 
few months, possibly, his shoulders will 
get used to the weight of his tribulation, 
but for a while he is in a chaotic state of 
mind, and neither knows nor cares what 
he says. 

''It was a woman," I remarked, "who 
had the first evil thought, and her caprice 
and coquetry have caused three quarters 
of the world's unhappiness. It was a 
woman who tempted Adam, and she has 
ever since been engaged in the same kind 
of business. I admit," I continued, " that 
Adam was cowardly, and — " 

"Oh no," Jessig broke in, "he was not 
at all cowardly. The Lord asked him 
this pertinent question : ' Hast thou eaten 



162 BEOJVX STUDIES. 

of tlie tree, whereof I commanded tliee 
tliat tlioii shouldest not eat ? ' and Adam's 
reply was memorable. He said, 'The 
woman whom Thon gavest to be with me, 
she gave me of the tree, and I did eat.' " 

" Well/' I saidj sharply, " was not Adam 
a coward to hide behind snch a paltry ex- 
cuse as that ? Why didn't he come boldly 
to the front, confess that he did eat, and 
be decent enough not to imphcate the 
woman? If he had been any sort of a 
man he would certainly have done just 
that ; but perhaps you excuse him on the 
ground that he was an experiment. For 
my part, I wish the experiment had never 
been made. The world would, in my 
opinion, be a great deal better without 
men and women than with them. So far 
as I can see, they are about as close to a 
failure as Omnipotence is Hkely to get." 

" You are mistaken," cried Jessig, '^ en- 
tirely mistaken. Your interpretation of 
the verse does injustice to the incident. 



A MAX'S WOULD. 1G3 

Adam was a good deal more of a man 
than you give liim credit for being. He 
did not hide behind the woman, bnt, on 
the contrary, came boklly to the front 
with his defense, and I think you will be 
forced to admit that the defense was an 
admirable one." 

"Ah, yes, Jessig, I see how the wind 
blows. You are a theologian, and there- 
fore a special pleader," 

"Nothing of the Idndj but I propose 
to look facts in the face, and the fact is 
that Adam behaved admirably and paid 
to Eve a very high compliment." 

" Indeed ! " I said, with a shrug of the 
shoulders. 

" Yes, and I will force you to acknow- 
ledge it," retorted Jessig, with great ear- 
nestness. "To pax'aphrase the passage, 
Adam said, ' Lord, you gave me this beau- 
tiful creature to be my companion. I 
have known her only a little while, but it 
is plain that she is much wiser, and more 



164 BliOWX STUDIES. 

spiritually minded, and lias finer intui- 
tions than I. I regarded her as so much 
superior to myself in every respect that 
when she plucked the apple and ate it I 
supposed, that of course it was all right ; 
and when she found that the fruit was 
pleasant to the taste, and graciously of- 
fered some to me, I took it without any 
hesitation whatever, for I did not imagine 
for a moment that she was capable of 
doing wrong.' " 

That is what Jessig told me about the 
passage, and I at once accepted his inter- 
pretation. 

I did this all the more readily because 
my conviction is that woman is nobler 
and purer and truer than man. 

The world could get along better with- 
out men than without women. I make 
that statement not because I wish to be 
gallant or to indulge in agreeable flattery, 
but because I believe it to be the truth. 

For the perpetuation of the race it is 



. A MAN'S WORLD. 165 

necessary that there should be two sexes, 
though why it should be necessary to per- 
petuate the race in that way is a problem 
which I have never been able to solve. 

Up to within half a dozen generations 
there have been practically nothing but 
men in the world. They have owned 
everything, created a public opinion to 
suit themselves, and relegated woman to 
the kitchen as a cook, or sent her into the 
parlor, covered with silks and diamonds, 
to entertain their guests. 

And w^hat kind of an affair have they 
made of it? Is there a single honest 
municipal government on the face of the 
earth? Is business conducted on the 
square principle of justice and fair pla}', 
or is it a vast game of grab, in which the 
strongest, boldest, and most inhuman ac- 
quires his millions, wdiile the poor man 
starves ? Does a man care who suffers, 
provided the sufferer is not himself ? If 



166 BROWN STUDIES. 

by some base trickery he can legally seize 
what belongs to others — a flourishing 
trade or a railroad — does he lose a night's 
sleep because he sends a score of his 
fellows into bankruptcy or a hundred 
orphan girls into the streets, that they 
may save their bodies by selling their 
souls? Not he. 

And what do his fellow-men say ? Do 
they denounce him, arrest him, imprison 
him, cage him as they would any other 
wild beast? Far from it. They envy 
his talent tor deviltry, and thousands of 
youngsters tr}^ to walk in his footsteps 
and play the same tricks. 

If a wretch of this kind loses his money 
he is kicked ; but if he keeps hold of it 
his crimes are condoned, and the best 
man in the city is proud to walk along 
the avenue mth him arm in arm. When 
he goes to church does the clergyman, 
who is thoroughly acquainted with his 
career, lash him with the fury of his elo- 



A MAN'S WORLD. 167 

quence, and denounce liim as an impostor 
and a liumbng 1 On the contraiy, he is 
careful not to offend him by word or 
phrase ; and as for the possibility of hell, 
the minister closes the trap-door and 
stands on it until the rich man has passed 
by. 

Oil yes, it is a man's world, and woman 
has had mighty little to do with it so far. 
But wherever she has been allowed to 
make her appearance she has exerted a 
refining influence. When English htera- 
ture was written for men onl}^ it was 
coarse and obscene ; but when women 
began to read books the obscenity was 
obliterated and the coarseness was modi- 
fied. 

If there were no women men would 
verj^ quickh^ become brutal. No corn- 
pan}^ of males can get together without 
indulging in talk which would not be 
tolerated at their family dinner-tables. 
The men whom you know, who would be 



168 BROWX STUDIES. 

disgusted at a story full of base insinua- 
tions, can be counted on the fingers of 
your two hands ; while the men who roai- 
at witty nastiness are to be found every- 
where in dress suits. When they go into 
the society of the other sex they simply 
suppress these peculiarities for the time 
being, and force themselves to a degree 
of gallantry which is not natural to them. 
They Avill carry the conversation as far 
toward forbidden topics as they dare to, 
and overstep the hmit unless they are dis- 
couraged by the woman's more modest 
nature. 

But if there were no men women would 
make a far better world than this one. 
They could get along a great deal easier 
\^ithout us than we could without them. 
They would make their mistakes, of course, 
but they would be the mistakes of essen- 
tially pure natures, not those of creatures 
with brutal tendencies. 



i 



A MAN'S WORLD. 169 

If the Lord had peopled two rival 
planets, one with men alone and the other 
with women alone, there is very little 
doubt that at the end of ten thousand 
years no one from the man's planet would 
be allowed to intrude upon the woman's 
planet, because he would be considered 
a demoralizing element ; but if one of the 
inhabitants of the woman's planet should 
visit the man's planet she would be wel- 
comed with triumphal processions as a 
superior being. 

Perhaps this experiment has been tried 
somewhere in the universe, and it may 
be that the perpetuation of the race is 
provided for in some more elevating way 
than obtains with us. If that be so, then, 
when we get rid of our bodies and can 
tra\^el with the speed of light from con- 
stellation to constellation, we -may pay 
these planets a visit, and discover that 
life on this earth is an extremely rudi- 



170 BROWN STUDIES. 

nientary affair, not much better, in many 
respects, than that of the wild beasts that 
roam our forests. 

I put a couple of fresh logs on the fire 
and resumed my brown study. 

Just look at the course of events and 
see how this idea of masculine superiority 
came about, and why, in all the earlier 
ages, w^onian had standing-room only. 

The first business of mankind in the 
olden time was fighting. Brawn, not 
brains, was at the beginning of things. 
That man was made in the image of his 
Creator was by no means manifest. On 
the contrary, brutality prevailed, and the 
only difference between a man and a tiger 
was that the man could outwit the tiger. 
Might was right, and its symbol was a 
stone arr.ow-head with a drop of poison 
on its tip. Killing was the universal 
trade. It was a gory time, and women, 
simply because the}^ could not bear the 



I 



A MAN'S WOULD. 171 

brunt of war as their brothers and lius- 
bancls could, were sent to tlie rear. Their 
only mission was to gratify the passions 
of warriors, and see that they had enough 
to eat. The men made public opinion to 
suit themselves, and regarded conjugal in- 
fidelity as an honor rather than a shame ; 
Avhereas, if a woman was audacious enough 
to sin in the same way, she was tortured 
to death as a warning. 

"When brains began to come into vogue, 
however, it was discovered that she was 
richly endowed. That was a great sur- 
prise, but still the lord of creation held 
his ow^n, arguing that a woman's sphere 
is limited to her home, and that she un- 
sexes herself when she asserts her right 
to exercise her talents in any direction. 
She was sneered at and jeered at, and the 
sneering and jeering was called conser- 
vatism. 

Woman has never yet, even in this 
nineteenth century, been allowed to do 



172 BEOWN STUDIES. 

herself justice. Nobody knows what she 
is capable of, for she is an undeveloped 
creature, with large possibilities which are 
curbed and checked by the fossiliferous 
notions of man. 

He has had full opportunity to show 
his mettle, and every incentive to do his 
utmost, his bravest, his noblest, and his 
best. 

That opportunity has never yet fallen 
to her lot, and what she has achieved has 
been in spite of all the restrictions which 
the coarser sex could conceive of and 
apply. 

She is the unsolved problem in our his- 
toric career, the unguessed puzzle of the 
ages ; but when she wins her victor}'-, and 
takes her place as one of the owners of 
the world, with a right to command as 
well as to obey, to make her voice heard 
in legislation, and her opposition to cor- 
rupt practices felt, there will be some start- 
ling changes, all of them for the better. 



A MAN'S WORLD. 173 

Now that I am considering this topic I 
should Hke to free my mind on one or 
two other matters, and then perliaps I 
shall sleep with an easy conscience. 

Suppose I make the assertion that 
nearly all girls are pure-minded and 
nearly all boys are far otherwise. Sup- 
pose I indulge my rashness and declare, 
still fui'ther, that it is an intolerable 
shame for a girl to have impure thoughts 
or indulge in impure practices, but in a 
boy they are taken as a matter of course 
and considered an evidence of manliness. 

I am not cynical when I make these 
statements, but simply tell a truth which 
everybody knows and nobody speaks of. 

With what tender care and constant 
watchfulness we guard girlhood ! Not a 
breath of suspicion must attach to her 
name ; not even a rumor must float in the 
air. She is to be kept in ignorance of 
the wicked ways of the world, and, if 
possible, unconscious that there is any 



174 BEOWX STUDIES. 

wickedness. The ideal gii-l is a very lily, 
pure wliite, without a single stain. The 
mother never loses sight of her, her com- 
panions are closely scrutinized, she must 
have no intimacies with the other sex, 
and when she takes her place at the altar 
the man who stands by her side must 
feel sure that her life has been imstained 
by a single indiscretion, and that she is 
ignorant of the experiences which await 
her. 

But does the young man expect to be 
measured by the same standard, and is 
he able to present to her the same kind 
of character that she offers for his pro- 
tection ? 

Oh no, for you must not forget that 
this is still a man's world. He would 
never dream of marrying her — he would 
scorn the suggestion — if he supposed she 
had a single ink-spot on her garments; 
but as for himself, that is quite another 
matter. It is her business to be abso- 



A MAN'S WOULD, 175 

lutely pure, and it is his privilege to be 
covered all over with ink-spots. 

When a hoy in the early twenties breaks 
loose from moral restraints, indulges in 
every kind of imaginable vice, spends his 
time in rioting among the horde of inde- 
cencies which every large city furnishes, 
and reels home to a stertorous sleep, this 
queer, eccentric, irrational, and stupid 
world looks at him with a smile, and 
simply remarks that he is sowing his wild 
oats, and stoutly asserts that wild oats 
are the first legitimate crop for the young. 

Is it, then, a good thing to begin life 
with a bath in dirty water in order to 
appreciate the clean water of after-years ? 
Is it true that it is better to dull the finer 
sensibilities at the start, to mar one's self- 
respect, to mingle with all manner of 
lewdness as a preliminary to honorable 
manhood ? 

Swinburne said recently that vileness is 
necessary to education, and that the man 



17G BIlOW^^ STUDIES. 

wLo is not smutcliecl with tar at some 
time in liis life never knows how beauti- 
ful goodness is. 

Then it ought to he made a condition 
of entering heaven that a man must 
spend a certain amount of time in hell. 

But if the principle is sound, why not 
extend it ? If evil experience enables one 
to enjoy good experience, why is not the 
rule applicable to women also ? Are they 
to be deprived of the higher kind of ap- 
[)reciation because man wants everything 
that is valuable for himself ? 

How would yoa like to have jowr 
daughters run loose as your boys do 5 go 
iiito all possible dens of vice, visit all 
places of infamous resort, hobnob, with 
immoral characters, in order to fit them 
to take their places as wives and mothers ? 

You shudder at the thought, do youf 
Then why not also shudder when you 
know your boy is indulging in these 
luxurious vices? 



A MAN'S WORLD. 177 

Wliat kind of a world would it be in a 
couple of hundred years if the advocates 
of this theory should apply it to both 
sexes ? 

You might as well say that a boy ought 
to eat a certain number of decayed apples 
or half a dozen stale eggs, that he may 
be brought to a proper appreciation of 
good fruit and fresh eggs. 

The simple truth is that when a man 
goes into the musty cellar he never gets 
the odor out of his clothes, and when he 
leads a vicious life he can never wholly 
recover that kind of manliness or that 
higher sense of honor which is the endow- 
ment of innocence. 

A girl has just as good a right to de- 
mand that her lover shall be free from 
impurities as he has to demand that she 
shall be. The prevailing ideas on this 
subject are flat, stale, and unprofitable. 

I insist that if a man has acquired ha- 
bits of moral uncleanness before marriage, 



178 BEOWX STUDIES. 

neither the blessing of the minister nor 
the fact that he has undertaken new re- 
sponsibilities will destroy them. In ex- 
ceptional cases the man may rise to the 
emergency and begin a wholly different 
life ; but I am familiar enough with so- 
ciety in New York to declare that nine 
times out of ten, when the novelty of the 
new situation wears off, he resumes his 
old habits, breaking the heart of the wife 
and destroying the peace and hapj)iness 
of the home. 



At this juncture John appeared at the 
door. 

" What luck ? " I cried, awakened from 
my dream. 

" Fair," he answered. 

"What did you bag?" 

"A fine little doe and a splendid old 
buck." 

" Did you bring them with you ? " 



A MAN'S WORLD. 179 

" The doe, yes 5 the buck, no. I'll have 
to go for him to-morrow." 

"It was a great day's sport," I said, 
cheerily. 

" Nothing to complain of," he answered, 
and then adding, "I thought I'd just re- 
port so you needn't think I was lost in 
the woods," he shut the door and was 
gone. 

Leo came for a moment's petting, but 
he and I were both sleepy and so said 
good-night to each other. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

SOJNIE CURIOUS PROBLEMS. 

Here is part of a letter from one of 
the best fellows in the world, honest Tom 
Livingston. 

He never married, and that rather ex- 
cited my interest in him about eight years 
ago. Since that time we have been close 
friends, exchanging confidences on all 
subjects save one. On a single occasion 
I led him toward a revelation of the rea- 
son why he was not a family man, but no 
trap could catch him. He never told me 
his story and I never told him mine. I 
always regarded that topic as too sacred 
to be discussed, and took a strange sort 
of pleasure in the thought that no living 
• 180 



SOME cmiors peoblems. isi 

human being — I except Her and. myself — 
knows wliy I left Her lionse one night in 
March and never went hack. When I 
found that Tom regarded his own experi- 
ence in the same hght I felt that tliis 
bond of mutual reticence would eventu- 
ally draw us closer together than we could 
ever get by wearing our hearts on our 
sleeves. 

And so it proved. I respected the fact 
that he had a lump of lead in his bosom 
and would carry it to the end. There 
was just a faint tinge of melancholy in 
his bearing which was very attractive. 
During my first five minutes' talk with 
him I said to myself, " That man has had 
a stunning blow some time." But I never 
learned, from him at least, who gave it. 

To be sure, there was a legend con- 
nected with him, but a legend — well, it 
is a legend and nothing more. It may be 
wholly tru(», or only partly true, or wholly 
false, and is not to be trusted. 



182 BROWN STUDIES. 

It ran to this effect : 

Wlien lie had just turned twenty-five he 
was engaged to a girl whose beauty was 
the envy of her sex. She had been edu- 
cated in Paris, she belonged to a family 
that had inherited wealth for foin* gen- 
erations or more, and she was not spoiled 
either b}^ wealth or admiration and flattery. 
She was as simx3le as a child, as innocent 
as an angel, and possessed of a brilliant 
wit which gave her an irresistible charm. 
All this may l)e an exaggeration for aught 
I know, but I tell the tale as it was told 
to me. Women with that combination of 
excellences are not often seen, but even 
if she was all that fancy, painted her I am 
sure that my friend Tom deserved the 
prize lie had won. 

It is not enough to say that the two 
lovers were happ}^ That is a poor word 
to use, because it is so weak, so tame, 
so inadequate to describe the ecstatic 
bliss of love's young dream. That love 



SOME CURIOUS PROBLEMS. 183 

may not be stronger tlian the love of later 
years — i^erhaps it is not so strong or so 
deep or so enduring — but tliere is a pecu- 
liar flavor about it which is never tasted 
by man or woman more than once in a 
lifetime. A divine aspiration transforms 
the two into god and goddess, and when 
they look into each other's eyes they see 
each other's souls. The touch of the 
finger-tipSj even though it occurs by acci- 
dent, makes the nerves tingle throughout 
the entire body and the rich blood rush to 
the cheeks. To sit side by side pretend- 
ing to read a paragraph together, with a 
v/hispered word now and then, or a side 
glance Avhicli tells more in an instant than 
the lips could reveal in an hour — all this 
is like a series of electric shocks which 
make the heart jump and the hands 
tremble. 

No couple that ever trod the globe, so 
says the legend, were better suited to eacli 
other by taste and temperament than 



184 BBOWX STUDIES. 

Tom and his ideal. They had a rosy 
moruiug, and it seemed as though their 
path would be strewn with flowers all 
day. But it was not to be. 

Strange things happen in this queer 
world, and when we are happiest we may 
be dose to some unspeakable woe. It is 
not only true that the darkest hour is 
just before dawn, but also that the very 
In'ightest and sunniest hour is sometimes 
just before a catastrophe. 

Tom was suddenly called to St. Louis 
on business. He would be absent not 
more than ten days, but ten days in a 
lover's life are a small eternity. When 
he bade Madge good-by she burst into a 
passionate flood of tears. This was so 
unlike her usual demeanor that it startled 
him. She was a self-contained creature, 
not at all impulsive in her exhibition of 
emotion; but on this occasion she flung 
herself into his arms, and for a long time 
refused to release him. '^I know that 



SOME C URIO US PR OBLEMS. 1 85 

yoii must go/' she said, "and it is per- 
fectly proper that you should go. Why 
I am so oppressed I can't say. My heart 
is heavy, and I have a strange feeling 
that we shall not see each other again." 

He supposed, of course, that she was 
anxious' about him and feared tliat some 
accident might happen on the way, but 
never once dreamed of danger in connec- 
tion with her, for a ruddier-cheeked angel 
never flitted from heaven to bless the 
earth with her presence. So he laughed 
at her fears, promised to take the best of 
care of himself, and to send her letters 
on the way 5 then with embraces and 
kisses they said their farewells. 

He had no sooner reached St. Louis, 
however, than a messenger thrust into his 
hand a telegram. He blanched as he 
read the words : 

" Madge is ill. The doctor fears pneu- 
monia, but hopes for the best. Will keep 
you well informed." 



18G BBOWK STUDIES. 

The poor fellow reeled. To be fifteen 
Imndred miles away at sncli a time was 
agonj^ Why had he started on this jour- 
ne}^ ? Why had not a kindly fate inter- 
vened in his favor? If he had delayed 
the trip for a conple of days he might 
noAv be at her side. What cruelty of cir- 
cumstance ! 

That evening at eleven o'clock he re- 
ceived another telegram : 

^' Doctor is more hopeful. Says you 
need not be disturbed. All gohig well." 

Unless yon have yourself been in such 
a situation, you cannot understand the 
revulsion of feeling which Tom endnred. 
To stand on the edge of a precipice, know- 
ing that the next step is inevitable, Imt 
that you must take it, and then to look 
up snddenly and see that some magician 
has filled the chasm and yon can walk on 
witliout fear or dread — that l)ut feebly 
represents the relief which Tom experi- 
enced. To be sure, he slept but little that 



SOME CURIOUS PROBLEMS. 187 

night, for what he regarded as his nar- 
row escape was constantly in his mind, 
and every now and again he passed from 
a fever that seemed like a consuming fire 
to a chill that froze his very vitals. 

The next morning a third message 
reached him : 

"Madge is worse. She calls for you. 
Come if possible." 

Of course he left his business unfinished 
and took the next train for the East. But 
one thing nearly crazed him, namely, he 
could not hear from her on the way. 
What might not happen while he was doing 
his best to reach her! Two nights and 
two days must pass before he could get 
another Avord. He sank into his seat 
with a groan, and as the train started it 
seemed as thougli he were entering a dark 
tunnel . Would he emerge by ai \ d l)y into 
the light, or would the darkness last for- 
ever '? 

He arrived in New York at last, but 



188 BROWN STUDIES. 

when he reached the door of Madge's 
home he saw bhick crape hanging from 
the bell-handle. 

She was gone. The light on his path 
had been extinguished. 

I am told that when he stood by her 
coffin and looked at that sweet face, he 
neither moved a muscle nor shed a tear, 
but was like a statue carved from marble. 

Let me think; that must have been 
fully ten years ago. Ten years ! If grief 
lasts that length of time it is likely to 
last always. 

Not that it remains poignant — that 
would be more than human nature could 
bear. It changes from a sharp pain to a 
dull ache. One feels a kind of heaviness, 
as though something were all the time 
portending; a depression which makes 
life look like a gray day. 

Now some people — I may venture to 
say most people — can pull themselves to- 



SOME CURIOUS PBOBLEMS. 189 

gether after any sort of affliction. How- 
ever mncli tliey may be linrt, the wound 
heals so completely that hardly a remnant 
of the sorrow remains. They enter into 
new relations, and the old memories are 
washed away as a name written in the 
sand when the tide rises. Perhaps it is 
better so, and yet I like it not. 

I have no patience with a man whose 
love is like a bundle of hay, which burns 
with terrific energy and then goes out. 

I remember one such, and I have never 
forgiven him. When the body of his 
wife lay ready for the burial ser\'ice he 
was like a wild man. His tears were a 
mountain freshet. I pitied him, and went 
to his side and whispered what few words 
of condolence I could summon. It seemed 
as though he woidd die, for he trembled 
in every limb and his very teeth chattered. 
With a terrible moan he threw himself 
on the body, and in the most agonized 
tones begged the dear one to come back. 



190 BROWN STUDIES. 

After that he fell into a chair half faint- 
ing. 

I don't know that I was ever more 
affected in my life. He was like a mag- 
nificent bnilding after an earthquake — 
nothing but a pile of debris; and I felt 
certain that he wonld never recover from 
this shock. 

It was only six months later that I saw 
him on the avenne with a lady, chatting 
in the jolliest way, and laughing at her 
witticisms. The weed was still on. his hat, 
but that was the only evidence of mourn- 
ing I could discover. At the end of a 
year he sent me cards to his w^edding, and 
then I recalled the dramatic grief of that 
other occasion, and, with something which 
I fear had the appearance of profanitj^, 
threw the cards into the fire. 

The fellow was not to blame ; he was 
made so. It seems to me, however, rather 
desirable that the Lord should limit the 



SOME CURIOUS PROBLEMS. 191 

number of that sort of men as far as may 
be convenient. 

Not so with Tom. It was as impossible 
for him to speak of his gTief as if he had 
been born dumb. Neither would he allow 
any one else to refer to it. It was his 
private, personal possession, and he re- 
fused to share it with any man on the 
earth. I think he would have considered 
it a sacrilege to tell that story. But if 
you were intimate with him you soon dis- 
covered that the love of women had no 
place in his heart. His longing for a 
home was dead, and he repudiated every 
expression of sympathy. But there were 
lines in his face, especially at the corners 
of his mouth, and a certain something in 
the glance of his eyes, which made you 
say, " That man has either lost his fortune 
or met with a great disappointment." 

There are such men in the world, and. 



192 



BBOWX STUDIES. 



I am inclined to think, a good man}^ of 
them. They are so constituted — and there- 
fore it is no merit — that they can love 
but once. They who sang to them have 
departed, but the echo of their voices is 
still in their hearts, and will remain there 
until on the other side the voices shall be 
heard again. 



All these reminiscences came to mind 
as I held Tom's letter in my hand. I sat 
before the blazing fire for nearly two 
hours in absorbed meditation, looking at 
this panorama of other years as m}^ good 
genii unrolled it. I looked at the old 
fireplace and at the clock on the wall and 
through the window into the dark night, 
and yet saw neither mantel nor clock nor 
darkness. My present was wholly oblit- 
erated, and I leisurely strolled along the 
golden highway of memory, listening to 
the voices of many friends, some of whom 
have grown gray and bald since those 



S02IE CUBIOrS PliOBLEMS. 193 

far-away times, while others have drawn 
the curtain aside and gone beyond the 
shadows. 

I awoke with a start, as though some 
stranger liad rudely placed his hand on 
my shoulder. Had I been really asleep 
and dreaming ? Everytliing was so real, 
so vivid. I rubbed my eyes, for I was 
quite dazed, but came to myself again 
when I saw Leo, shaggy old fellow, sit- 
ting on his haunches and staring at me. 

'' Heigh-ho, my dog ! '' I said, as I rose 
from the chair, " it is a queer world, isn't 
it!" 

He deliberately laid his nose on my 
knee and uttered a kind of guttural 
sound, which, I am sure, meant, "Yes, 
master, it is a cjueer world both for dogs 
and men." 

" Tell me, Leo, would you like to go 
back to your puppyhood and live your 
life all over again ? Would you be mll- 
ing to go through with the rough experi- 



194 BBOJyy ST [DIES. 

ence of the days when your trainer nsed 
his whip so freelj^, or when you had that 
long sickness, and your master, thinking 
you were sure to die, left you in a corner 
and wondered where he could get another 
dog to take your place? Would you, 
Leo?" 

The dear fellow looked at me in a won- 
drously wise way, then gave a quick bark. 
I understood him perfectly. He said, very 
decisively, "No, master, I would not. I 
am ready to face the future, and bear 
whatever it may bring with the fortitude 
of an honest and well-meaning dog ; but, 
my dear master, one journey of this kind 
is quite enough for me."' 

"You are right, Leo," I answered, as I 
patted his beautiful head ; " you are right, 
dear dog. And if 3^ou were to ask me the 
same question I would give the same an- 
swer. Some of my years have been long 
and wear}^; some have been short and 
happy. But I would not live them over 



SOME CURIOUS PROBLEMS. 195 

again for worlds. Ouce will do, Leo, ouce 
will do." 

Then I opened the letter and read it. 
The only part which can interest yon I 
will qnote. Tom wrote : 

'^You remember Mary Kendal! Of 
conrse yon do. Fonr artists have gone 
wild over her Titian hair and her wonder- 
ful complexion. They have all begged 
her on bended knee to allow them the 
honor of painting her portrait for the 
next Academy exliibition. She was in- 
exorable, however, and the artists have 
threatened to commit suicide. • It would 
be worth a fortune to a painter to ' do ' 
her on canvas. Applicants would have 
to stand in a row after that, and take 
their turn as they do at the box-office of 
a theater. Perhaps these four had an 
eye to business as well as beauty. Wliy 
not, by the way f 

" Well, this very Mary Kendal is to be 
married next month. The engagement 



19G BliOJVX STUDIES. 

was announced last November, about a 
week after you left New York. But can 
you guess who tlie gentleman is ? Think 
of the last man in the world whom she 
ought to marry ; think of the fellow than 
marry whom you would a thousand times 
prefer to see her in her shroud. Well, 
that man is her choice. They tell me 
that neither her father nor mother has 
tried to influence her ; that she has had her 
own sweet way in the matter, and has 
reached the deliberate conclusion that 
she and he are to be like the Babes in the 
Wood, and are to keep house in the sub- 
urbs of Elysium. 

" I ask myself ever}^ day if it is possible. 
And every time I think of that sweet face 
I say to myself, 'No, it is not possible. 
If there is a man on the footstool who 
should be unutterably repulsive to her 
that is the man, and \^et she dreams of 
bliss.' 

'' Clinton Markham is the honored in- 



SOME CURIOUS PROBLEMS. 197 

dividual, and when I write that name yon 
need not be the son of a prophet to fore- 
tell the future." 

I confess to very great astonishment 
w^hen I read those paragraphs. I felt like 
packing my gripsack and taking the next 
train to town to tell the girl that she 
had better throw herself into the Hudson 
River. But with a shrug of the shoulders 
and a sigh I admitted that such a course 
would be madness, and that she would 
probably ask the butler to show me to 
the front door. 

The rashest man in the world is he who 
tries to reason with a girl in love. 

'^ Leo/' I said, " why does the Lord al- 
low us to get into such tangles I Here is 
a young girl who is walking across a rail- 
road bridge on the ties, and she is blind- 
folded. The trains dash along every 
quarter of an hour, and there is hardly 
one chance in a million that she will 
reach the other side in safety. Yet she 



198 BROWN STUDIES. 

sees no clanger, heeds no warning, and 
thinks herself unspeakably happy." 

I sometimes think it a pity that God is 
so patient. If He wonld only spare me a 
thunderbolt or two, and give me author- 
ity to liurl them, Clint Markliam would 
never go to Grace Church with Mary 
Kendal. 

But I am exhibiting a good deal of 
feeling without giving you an}' reason 
for doing so. Let me tell the story, for 
I know it all., I cannot say that it is in- 
teresting in itself, but it suggests a prob- 
lem which I have wearily pondered and 
never solved. 

The position which women assume on 
the subject of marriage is so far beyond 
my comprehension, and so entirely differ- 
ent from what it should be, that I despair 
of ever understanding it. That is my 
puzzle, and I will proceed to illustrate it. 

Clint had a father who let the boy run 



1 



SOME CUIUOUS riWBLEMS. 199 

wild. He was too much engrossed with 
the cares of business to give attention to 
anything else. The love of money was a 
disease, a passion, with him, and he had a 
genius for acquiring it. Everything he 
touched turned to gold, and every specu- 
lation, however rash it seemed, added to 
ills cash account. When he was worth a 
milHon his greed assumed a still more 
furious shape. He dreamed of nothing 
but hard cash, and told me on one occa- 
sion that his highest ambition was to 
make Clint, who was his only son, the 
richest youngster in town. 

" But," I said, " money is a dangerous 
possession, and Clint has alread}^ formed 
habits which you cannot approve." 

I had the right to speak in this way, 
l^ecause the Markhams were distantly re- 
lated to our family. 

''Tut, tut!" replied the old man, "he 
must take his chances like the rest. To 
be sure, he is a little top-heavy just now, 



200 



BROWN STUDIES. 



but by and by he will take in ballast and 
get on an even keel." 

Up to the present moment Clint has 
not taken in any ballast, but is more top- 
heavy than ever. 

The most difficult task in the world is 
to make character after you are thirty, 
especially w^ien you liav^e no raw mate- 
rial to make it of. 

If a fellow gets into evil practices when 
he is young he is like an old country road 
where the ruts are so deep that if you try 
to get out of them }'ou In-eak your wheels. 

Clint was the leader of a ver}^ fast set. 
They wore out all decent and reputable 
pleasures in a few years, and then found 
excitement in ways that are not to be 
mentioned. Like the gourmand, whose 
delicacy of taste has been dulled, and who 
resorts to the strongest spices and condi- 
ments, these boys could find no zest in 
anything that was not forbidden liy hon- 
orable societv. So at twentv-five Clint 



SOME CURIOUS PROBLEMS. 201 

was an old man, a blase creature, haunted 
by ennui. He had discovered all that 
Paris and Vienna could disclose, and was 
morally as much a wreck as the lost coaster 
whose bones are bleaching on the sands 
of Long Island. 

I don't believe he has looked with pure 
eyes on a woman in years ; neither do I 
believe that there is a vice conceivable or 
inconceivable in which he has not in- 
dulged. 

But remember, please, that his father 
had between eight and ten millions in- 
vested in handsome securities; and re- 
member, also, that he had a certain polish 
of manner which disguised his real self 
as a costume disguises the actor. 

Such fellows, when they marry, always 
search for an exceptionally innocent girl. 
They never dream of taking one of their 
own kind. The tiger-lil}^ wants the chaste 
pimpernel for a companion. Clint wanted 
Mary Kendal. The two were no more 



202 BltOJVX STUDIES. 

fitted for each other than a fiend from 
the infernal regions, reeking with the 
smell of snlplmr, is fit for tlie last re- 
deemed sonl that went to heav^en. 

When, a jeav ago, I detected the strategy 
of Clint I found occasion to mention the 
subject to Mary's father and mother. 

They smiled at my earnestness. 

'^Mary is twenty- three," said the old 
gentleman. 

*'And Clint has skeletons enough to 
supply a medical college," I retorted. 

" He has money," said he. 

" But not character," I blurted. 

'' He is considered an enviable j^cu'tV^ 

" By fools who might just as well send 
then' daughters to sea on a raft as to in- 
trust their happiness to him." 

''He stands as well as most men." 

" That is hardly a compliment to ' most 
men.'" 

" He has eccentricities, of course." 



SOME C Villous PROBLEMS. 203 

"That is a strange word to use. I 
should prefer to call them crimes." 

They shrugged their shoulders in an 
indifferent way. 

" Does Mary know his reputation ? " I 
asked. 

" She has heard rumors." 

" But you know the rumors represent 
the truth." 

''It will be a grand wedding." 

" Or a grand funeral," I replied. 

And this is what puzzles me : that a 
father who loves his daughter as he does 
his life will deliberately place her in the 
arms of the vilest man on the planet, if 
he is a millionaire. 

But there is a harder puzzle than even 
that to guess ; namely, that a woman, a 
religious woman, as the word goes, a 
thoroughly virtuous woman, has in most 
instances no horror of vice in a man. 



204 BROWN STUDIES. 

For that matter, I have an impression 
that many women fi.nd the company of an 
immoral, but, of course, a gentlemanly 
fellow far more piquant and interesting 
than that of a strictly honorable man. 

If a woman has sinned they would no 
more touch her than they would touch a 
tarred stick ; but a man may sin a thou- 
sand times, may break every law in the 
decalogue, and it is no bar to his marriage 
with the purest woman in society. 

There are exceptions to this rule, but 
they are not overnumerous. 

A lady once paid me a confidential visit. 
A friend of hers was in love with a man 
whom I knew very well, and our conver- 
sation was entirely frank. 

" What do you know^ about him ? " she 
asked. 

" I know all about him." 

" Well, I don't ask you to tell me the 
^all,' but will you kindly tell me some- 
thing?" 



SOME CURIOUS riiOBLEMS. 205 

'^ I shall be glad to answer your ques- 
tions, but I don't care to volunteer any 
information." 

"He is said to be ricli. Is it true?" 

" I happen to know that he is." 

''Has he bad habits?" 

" Some of the worst." 

" Such, for instance, as — " 

''He is fast, and I wish to include in 
the word matters which I do not care to 
speak of more explicitly." 

"Does he drink?" 

" Not largely ; not more than the world 
thinks becoming in the ordinary club- 
man." 

" Would he make a good husband ? " 

"Do you mean would he be faithful to 
his wife ? " 

" Perhaps." 

"Decidedly, no." 

" You are sure that he does not drink 
to excess ? " 

" I think so." 



206 BROWN STUDIES. 

Then slie arose with a smile and thanked 
me, saying that I had relieved her fears, 
and there seemed to be no reason why 
the two should not become engaged. 

My looks showed my surprise, and she 
answered the qneryin my eyes by saying 
bluntly : 

"My friend has no feeling whatever 
about the conquests with which her lover 
is credited. Indeed, if tlie stories she has 
heard are true, she rather takes pride in 
tlie fact that she has captured the man 
who is so fascinating that other women 
have fallen before him. But " — and here 
she became severe — "if he drinks to ex- 
cess — ah ! that is a very different matter. 
It is the only subject on which I have felt 
any anxiety." 

I know you will cry " Impossible ! " but 
the story is absolutely true. 

It is a very serious problem whether 
women, as a rule, though pure themselves. 



1 



SOME CUIUOUS PROBLEMS. 207 

care very mncli whether tlieir gentlemen 
friends are pure or not. 

At any rate, it is perfectly clear that 
there is no emphatic or decisive demand 
among the majority of women that the 
same moral standard shall be applied to 
both sexes. And I may add that in what 
is called good society no pnnishment 
whatever is visited on the man whose 
rcpntation is soiled. 

I know that I am talking harshly. 
Possibly yoii may cry out against me and 
declare that I am cynical. Bnt Avill you 
tell me why Mary Kendal, whose soul is 
as white as a dove's wing, could marry 
Clint Markham, whose soid is as black 
as a raven's breast ? Why can purity wed 
with impurity and feel no repulsion, but, 
on the other hand, be thoroughly fasci- 
nated ? 

And how is it that her parents, who 
know just as well as I do that the mar- 
ried life of that couple will change from 



208 BROWN STUDIES. 

paradise to piirgatoiy in a few years, 
could give their willing consent to tlie 
match which will cost their daughter a 
broken heart ? 

The rich man can do what he will, and 
no stinging criticisms follow liim. He 
rules by right of cash. But the poor fel- 
low whose only endowment is an honest 
bod}^ must not presume too much. If he 
should ask the hand of your daughter 
you would show him to the door. 

The world does not care for honorable 
lives as much as for a bank-account. 

Women are custodians in this realm, 
but they ask few questions if the suitor 
keeps a carriage. 

It has more than once happened under 
my own observation that mothers have 
literally thrown their girls into the arms 
of unworthy men for the sole reason that 
un worthiness excited no disgust, while 
riches roused their envy and admiration. 



SOME CURIOUS PROBLEMS. 209 

At this point Leo stretched himself, 
yawned, and looked at me as though to 
say, " Master, these are late hours for the 
woods." 

I took the hint, and in my di-eams — but 
why speak of dreams ? 



CHAPTER IX. 

WHY DO WE MARRY"? 

I AM lia\Ting a wonderful lioliday, and 
am sorry that it is so nearly over. Per- 
haps I was cut out for a hermit and ought 
never to go back to the city. 

I think T can understand how old 
Simeon Stylites felt when he chmbed his 
column and from its top looked down on 
a bustling, hurrying, tired-out world with 
something like disdain. 

This love of solitude seems to have 
been progressive with him, and I am in- 
clined to believe that the same is true of 
me. I am not at all gregarious — that is, 
I don't like men and women simply be- 
210 



WHY DO WE MAURY? 211 

cause tliey are men and women. To tell 
the trutli, I like the company of Leo bet- 
ter than that of most people, and when 
he and I are together we are both happy. 

In the Slimmer I have spent a whole 
day sitting on a log, with my microscope, 
examining the beauty of the moss which 
covered it, a thousand different varieties, 
each more exquisite than the last. It is 
a forest in miniature, miles and miles of 
almost impenetrable wood compressed 
within the space of an inch. 

And I like to he in some shady spot 
with my field-glass, and watch a gray 
squirrel rushing hither and yon with in- 
credible speed, and chuckling to himself 
when he finds what he wants. I wonder 
what the little rogue is thinking of when 
he catches a glimpse of me, sits on a 
branch, his brush gracefully curved, and 
looks at me with those great brown eyes 
of his. He turns his head first to this 
side and then to that, trying to make out 



212 BBOJVX STUDIES. 

what I am, wliy I was made so huge, 
Avliefcher I can climb a tree as nimbly as 
he can, and w4jat I am gazing at him for. 
Then he gives it np as a problem too large 
for a squirrel's comprehension, suddenly 
remembers that his curiosity has made 
him forget his caution, and with a shrill 
whistle darts into the foliage, springing 
from limb to limb wdth marvelous alacrity, 
and hiding himself behind a bunch of 
leaves. 

Wild animals have a good many advan- 
tages over us who boast about our civili- 
zation. My little squirrel, for example, 
is never bothered about house-rent. He 
finds a suitable residence in some old tree, 
snugs it up a bit, brings in from the for- 
est a little dried grass, makes a comfor- 
table bed for himself, and holds his title 
to the property in. fee sim]3le from the 
Almighty. He has no iceman to look 
after, no milkman to watch, no butcher 
to scold because he sends tough chops, 



WHY DO WE MARRT? 213 

and, blessed privilege ! no servant-maid 
to break his bric-a-brac and treat lier 
company to his store of Avalnuts when he 
has gone off for a ramble. 

If he is hungry he finds a morsel some- 
where, and is in bliss. There is no table 
to be cleared off, there are no dishes to 
wash, no spoons and forks to be counted 
every day because they have a way of dis- 
appearing, and none of the annoyances 
of housekeeping which make it doubtful 
whether life is worth living. There is no 
spring cleaning in his little home, for if 
he does not like his apartment, why, the 
Lord has almost as many houses to rent 
as there are trees in the forest, and all 
he has to do is to take his pick and be 
satisfied. 

But I was talking about my resem- 
l)lance to the Syrian Stylite. He got his 
first taste of solitude as a herdsman, we 
are told, and spent his days and nights 



214 BIWWX STUl)If':S. 

alone amid tlie silence of naturej witli 
nothing to do except to tliink and keep 
his eye on his sheep. Possibly he had a 
dog to help him guard the flock, and that 
gave him all the leisure he wanted. Think 
of such a life in close communion with 
hills and valleys and streams, with no 
one to fret you about the tariff, or get 
you into an endless discussion on the in- 
come tax. 

It was in such solitude as he enjoyed 
that astronomy was born. Those old 
shepherds peered at the overhanging 
heavens month after month until they 
discovered that certain stars belong to 
certain seasons of the year, that either 
we move or the sky moves all the time, 
and that a wonderful panorama is being 
unrolled by some one, suggesting myste- 
ries beyond their reach. They were filled 
with awe at the magnificence of the spec- 
tacle, and made record of the changes 
that occurred during the la,pse of a year. 



WHY BO WE MABBYf 215 

These records grew more important age 
by age, until at last it was found that 
we are only a little world in an immense 
multitude of worlds wliich came we know 
not how, wliich are going we know not 
where, and wliich will come to a conclu- 
sion we know not when. 

But this Simeon Stylites had a reputa- 
tion for godliness, and the people came in 
crowds to get a look at him. In. disgust 
he built a pillar ten feet high, where he 
lived for a while. But the tide of hu- 
manity surged all about him, and he was 
tired of its noisy ebb and flow. So he 
climbed up a new pillar, this time sixty 
feet high, and stayed there about thirty 
years. 

How they ever got him down when he 
was dead is something I know nothing 
about. It is enough that he was buried 
at Antioch, and that his biographer, An- 
tonius, tells us he was a very decent sort 
of man. 



216 BIWWX STUDIES. 

I do not believe I should like to live ou 
a platform four feet square for the sake 
of getting away from my kind, but I feel 
sure that it is harmful to our personal 
characters to live in such close relations 
with one another as we do. 

It sometimes seems to me that society 
is a great seething mass of bodies and 
minds and souls, which are so tangled 
that no man lives his own life, but is in- 
fluenced and therefore injured by the 
magnetism of the whole. The hardest 
thing in the world is to have thoughts 
which are absolutely your own, for most 
of our opinions are either made or modi- 
fied by the prevailing opinion in our 
neighborhood or in the circle to which we 
belong. 

It was to get rid of all that, and to find 
out whether there would be anything left 
after I had subtracted from my sum total 
all that I had unconsciously absorbed 
from others, that I came into these woods 



WHY 1)0 WE MARllYi 217 

to live with Leo and my two backwoods- 
men and myself. 

I am forcibly reminded of this by the 
hnge batch of letters which lies on my 
table, some parts of which I propose to 
read to yon. 

Here, for instance, is one from Tom 
Nevins. It is full of tattle, bnt will serve 
as a good starting-point for what I wish 
to say. He writes among other things : 

''There is a report that Clara van Brunt 
and her husband find it pretty difficult to 
live in the same house. Well, it's the old 
story that we all know by heart." 

That short paragraph will furnish a 
half-hour's meditation of a very serious 
problem. I will tell you the story — a 
rather pathetic one, by the way — and you 
will see one of the queerest puzzles of life. 

Van Brunt was an old schoolmate of 
mine. In those days the ferule and the 
rattan were in vogue, and that queer say- 



218 BliOWX STUDIES. 

ing about sparing the rod and spoiling 
the child was received as an injunction 
not to be disobeyed. The head-master, 
Big Field, as we used to call him, took 
especial delight in the rattan. It always 
lay on his desk within easy reach, and 
three or four times a day he would api)ly 
it with such vigor that the jDOor victim's 
hand was sure to have a couple of blisters 
on it. 

Bradford van Brunt got his full share 
of punishment. And richly he deserved 
it, for he was everlastingly getting some 
boy into a scrape and trying to sneak 
out of the responsibility for it. He was 
a cowardly, self-willed fellow, with no 
sense of honor whatever. 

Well do I remember one episode, for 
I had a very narrow escape. Bradford 
had put a bent pin in the master's chair 
— a grave offense, but in those days con- 
sidered a very good joke. Big Field 
flushed in the face, nervously grasped his 



I 



WHY DO WE MARRY? 219 

ferule, and looked as tlioiigli lie would 
like to thrash the whole school. He fixed 
his eyes on me, for it was impossible to 
control my risibles, and without doul)t I 
had the appearance of a culprit. 

When the session was nearly over Field 
beckoned to me, and when I stood in front 
of his desk his glance was withering*. He 
remarked : " Clarence, I want to see yon 
after the school has been dismissed.'^ 

When the boys bundled out of the room 
he lifted his awful forefinger and I knew 
that my doom was sealed. Still I was 
full of spirit, and though frightened out 
of my wits, I determined not to be whipped 
for nothing. 

" Hold out your hand, sir ! '' 

I hesitated, and rather think the tears 
came to my eyes. 

"What have I done, sir?" I said, dog- 
gedly. 

" Hold out your hand ! " 

"But, Mr. Field, what have I done?" 



220 BROWN STUDIES. 

I rather admire myself for having been 
so pliick3\ 

He pointed to the pin, which lay on his 
desk. 

'' I didn't put it in your chair, sir.'" 

He gave me a piercing look, but I didn't 
flinch. 

" Are you sure ? " 

" Perfectly, sir." 

"You know who did it?" 

I hesitated. 

"You know who did it?" and the rat- 
tan began to sing through the air. 

" Yes, sir," I answered, but very feebly. 

" Name the boy ! " 

" I'd rather not, Mr. Field." 

" Name the boy or hold out your hand." 

It was a frightful moment ; but I was not 
brought up to tell tales, and so, putting 
my teeth together, I held out my hand. 

"You refuse to give me the desired in- 
formation ? " 

" I can't do it, sir ; it wouldn't be hon- 



WHY DO WE MABBY? 221 

orable. I'd rather take the thrashing, 
Mr. Field." 

Then he laid the rattan down on the 
chair, threw the pin into the waste-basket, 
and growled, '' Go home, sir." 

When Bradford was twenty-six he got 
into bad habits. His father was a heavy 
drinker, and the boy came by his love of 
liqnor by inheritance. 

He could not help drinking. I have no 
doubt he tried to resist temptation ; but 
it was too strong for him. He never 
reeled, however. He could drink brandy 
without feeling its effects. I never saw 
him when he was not able to walk a crack 
with perfect steadiness. Still the most 
casual observer could see that the quan- 
tities he imbibed were telling on him, and 
that he would end a wretched sot. 

Clara was simply fascinated, for Brad- 
ford was bright and witty, and most ex- 
cellent at repartee. In a little dinner 



222 BBOJVX STUDIES. 

company he very easily led them all, for 
he could teU the funniest stories in the 
funniest way, and was withal a superb 
mimic. 

So Clara fell in love with him, and 
when remonstrated with declared her 
ability to reform him. They were mar- 
ried with pomp and ceremon}^ 

Do not marry a man with the hope of 
reforming him. It is the most hopeless 
task ever undertaken by a woman. I 
have seen the experiment tried on two or 
three occasions, but never Avitli success. 
If a man will not reform himself during 
an engagement there is no power under 
heaven that will change him after his 
marriage. 

Clara was an exceptional gM, with 
great qualities of character, but wholly 
unconscious of them. She was beautiful, 
fond of " merriment, light-hearted as a 



WHY DO WE MARRY? 223 

fawn, but with a capacity for affection of 
the deepest kind if the right man could 
find her. If she had married a statesman 
she would have had a salon and been a 
leader in society. She had had a dozen 
offers, but did not care to surrender her 
liberty. Pier weak point was a very ten- 
der heart, of the kind which too keenly 
appreciates the suffering of the man who 
swears to commit suicide if she rejects 
him, but who six months later bends the 
^^ pregnant hinges of the knee" to some 
other beaut}^ 

Bradford was coarse and Clara was 
pure ; he was a trombone and she a Cre- 
mona violin. He could give her fine 
dresses and a costly equipage, and was 
proud of her beauty; but long, long ago 
I saw a kind of repulsion on her part to- 
ward him that was ominous, and knew 
only too well that he and she would both 
have been happier if they had each mated 
with one of his own kind. 



224 mWU'X STUDIES, 

As 1 reviewed tliese facts tliis question 
arose in my mind : What is it the duty of 
that woman to do ? Does the welfare of 
society demand that she shall remain a 
suppressed being, her finer and nobler 
nature kept in a dormant condition, her 
possibilities for affection, her intellect, and 
her superb spiritual qualities held in abey- 
ance for a lifetime because j)ublic opinion 
has decreed that it must be so ? Will the 
world be any better for her sacrifice of 
herself? Does religion demand that she 
shall be the slave of the man who has a 
legal right to her person, or would it be 
better for us all if in such cases provision 
were made for the rectification of early 
errors ? 

Do you ask what I mean by the m3"s- 
terious word "provision"? And do you 
intimate that I am trying to evade the 
consequences of speaking frankly by ask- 
ing you to answer the question? Then 
you do me slender justice. 



WHY DO WE MABEYf 225 

What I mean^ tlien, is this : that so- 
ciety ought not to force two people to live 
together when they have discovered that 
their marriage is a personal injury to the 
character of either party. 

The world would show better results if 
our laws, our customs, Avere such that a 
vv'oman could say, in such cases as this, 
" I am being robbed, and I mean to leave 
tlie robber. I no longer cherish the love 
of other years, because I have waked 
up to the fact that he is not wortli}^ 
of it." 

You tell me — I have been told this a 
thousand times — that the welfare of so- 
ciety as a wliole demands that when a 
woman has made a mistake she must not 
try to rectify it, but must pretend that 
she is happy when she is not ; must swear 
that her husband is all that could be de- 
sired when she knoAvs that he has nothing 
that she desires; and must, in a w^ord, 
iDecome a pretender, and issue falsehood 



226 JBMOWX STUDIES. 

after falsehood with smiling lips while 
her heart is breaking. 

Pray tell me — for I wish to be logical 
in drawing my conclnsions — what is the 
j)rime object of marriage? Mind, I say 
emphatically the 2^^^^^^^^ object. Consid- 
ering the fact that we are immortal beings, 
and that the greatest end to be achieved 
is character, and nothing bnt character, 
why has God ordained marriage ? 

Is it for the perpetnation of the race 
simply? Is it that there may be more 
men and women to suffer as we are suf- 
fering, and to bear the burdens that we 
are bearing ? 

The perpetuation of the race, in my 
judgment, is a mere side issue. At best 
it is only an incident in connection with 
marriage. At any rate, if it is its prime 
purpose, then the majority is strangely 
derelict in duty, and mankind is to a great 
extent a failure. 

Large families are the exception, not 



WHY no WE MARRY? 227 

the rule, the wide globe over. Especially 
is this true in all great aggregations of 
the people, as in the thickly settled parts 
of a country. 

In a state of society which is hone}^- 
combed b}^ competition, both in labor and 
in business, the matter of income is an 
important factor of domestic happiness. 
A large family means inevitable poverty 
and consequent misery. I can conceive 
of no greater misfortune than for an or- 
dinary wage-earner, who is already har- 
assed by the difficulty of providing rent 
and food and clothing, to become the 
father of ten or a dozen children. Pov- 
erty such as we have never dreamed of 
would prevail, and with poverty would 
come a startling increase in temptation 
and crime. 

It seems very queer, therefore, that God 
should wish us to enlarge our households 
indefinitely, while Ave make it a sj^ecial 
task to limit them to a small number. 



228 BllOWX STUDIES. 

Either the Creator has made a mistake in 
issuing snch a decree, or the present order 
of things is so twisted that we cannot 
obey mthout bringing npon om-selves 
immeasui'able disaster. In other words, 
to obey God in this regard is to invite 
the ruin of your happiness and make a 
galley-slave of j^ourself, while to disobey 
him is to give yoiu-self a fair chance. 

I beg you not to regard me as a theo- 
rist, a di-eamer, a fanatic, for I pride my- 
self on being a thoroughly practical man. 
I have, hoAvever, strong opinions on this 
subject, and they are the result of \qyj 
careful observation. 

I have heard on good authority of a 
French-Canadian who reared a family of 
twenty-six children, and of another to 
whom were born \yy the same mother 
either thirty-one or thirty-two children, I 
forget which. Moreover, I learn that in 
the province of Quebec the priests are 
apt to tell their people that they can do 



WHY DO WE MAURY? 229 

no better service to God than to increase 
and inultifjly the number of their off- 
spring. 

Well and good. I have nothing- to say. 
If paternal and maternal affection can 
care for snch a brood as that, may a 
kind Providence gratify them with a 
phenomenal family. 

But, from an economic standpoint, is it 
possible for one man and one woman not 
in affluent circumstances to do justice to 
the bodies of such an army-corps of cliil- 
dren ? Must there not be deprivation and 
neglect as an inevitable consequence ? Is 
any living man so constituted that he can 
faithfully perform his duty to twenty- 
four human beings? Is it not a kind of 
sarcasm for him to undertake such a 
task! Is affection so elastic that it can 
cover two dozen beds and cribs and 
cradles in such way that each child shall 
receive the attention whicli is necessary 
to proper development ? 



230 BROWN STUDIES. 

Possibly 7 but if so I confess to being 
greatly puzzled. 

Viewed from a spiritual and educational 
standpoint the difficulties increase in ap- 
palling fashion. Every new-comer brings 
his own temperament with him, and that 
temperament is a very important factor 
in the problem of his welfare. Apply the 
same rule to tw^enty-four children, and 
the chances are that you will ruin them 
aU. You cannot strike an average of 
discipline. The pecuharity of a well- 
brought-up family is that the mother 
knows each child's weak and strong- 
points, and applies herself to each one's 
idios3mcrasies. If this is not done you 
may have a crowd, a mob, but you have 
no family life. 

To declare that God wishes you to in- 
crease and multiply without reference to 
proper educational influences is an asser- 
tion which does not commend itself to 
my judgment. 



WHY DO WE MABEY? 231 

Allow me to say, furtlier, tliat tlie birtli 
of a cliild is frequently a sanctifying and 
harmonizing influence. Tliere is an im- 
pressiveness about the chamber in which 
an immortal soid is making its first ap- 
pearance in the world which affects the 
most rugged natures, and softens and 
enriches the most reckless heart. There 
is a mystery about it which ennobles, and 
a responsibility connected witli it which 
widens a man's outlook and tends to a 
loftier purpose in life. Only the brute 
can be indifferent on an occasion when 
the just-arrived angel is given into his 
keeping. That cry, heard in the stillness 
of the night, makes him tremble with 
excitement, and if there are in him any 
superior qualities they come to the sur- 
face at once. 

Besides, a cldld is frequently the very 
balm of Gilead to heal the wounds of 
estrangement. The man and wife may 
have grown apart from each other, but 



232 BBOWX STUDIES. 

when the little one arrives the two be- 
come one again at the side of the cradle. 
That ^' third party " has a wonderfully at- 
tractive power, and they who have been 
back to back turn toward him and find 
themselves once more face to face. 

I have no doubt that there are mar- 
riages which are complete without chil- 
dren. They are not longed for, because 
the man and w^oman supplement .each 
other perfectly. The}'' are not necessary 
to the home, because the husband finds 
in his wife more than enough to satisfy 
every desire, and the wife finds in the 
husband all she has ever prayed for. 

But such cases are remarkable excep- 
tions, and it requires very nnich more 
than the ordinary amount of love — at 
least one hundred jier cent, more — to make 
a happy household without a -crib in it. 
As a general rule — and pity 'tis 'tis true 
— marriage is a novelty, and like all other 



11 EY DO WE MABRYf 233 

noveltieSj it wears itself out after a few 
years, and becomes somewhat tame and 
insipid. The sparkle, the effervescence of 
love is lost. Then children awaken a new 
interest in the household, and a new bond 
of union is formed. The love of father 
and mother for each other is revived by 
their common love for the little ones, and a 
sweet and hallowing influence grinds away 
the hai'sh corners in the father's heart, and 
perhaps does the same for the mother. I 
can not help thinking that the prattle of 
childhood is one of the compensations for 
the disappointments of married life, and 
that many a husband and wife are kept 
together by it ^vho would otherwise be 
drawn farther and farther apart. 

But I feel impelled to say one thing 
more. I firmly believe that it is a crimi- 
nal offense against God and against so- 
ciety for some married people to have anj 
children at all. There is, to be sure, no 



234 BROWN STUDIES. 

law Oil our statute-books which takes 
cognizance of that crime, but there ought 
to be, and in the future, when we see 
these things more clearly, there will be. 

If YOU could repeal the laws of hered- 
ity, then I should have nothing to say; 
but while those law^s are in force, and the 
fatal and known weaknesses of the parent 
are siu-e to be transmitted to the cliildren, 
it is a base and cruel act to bring children 
into the world. 

Take the case of the Van Brunt family. 
Bradford — why mince words when we are 
speaking on so serious a subject f — Brad- 
ford is a confirmed drunkard. He got 
his love of whisky from his father just as 
he got his two hundred thousand dollars 
— by inheritance. The old man was 
brought home one night in a beastly con- 
dition, was struck with apoplexy at two 
in the morning, and I attended his funeral 
three days later. Bradford is simply 
carrying out the logic of the situation. 



WHY no WE MABRYf 235 

111 bringing children into tlie world lie 
has simply added to the misery of the 
world. Those children will marry, and 
tlie chances are that this inherited weak- 
ness will sooner or later make itself mani- 
fest. 

I say, therefore, that Bradford had no 
right to ask ajiy one's daughter to take 
the risk of living witli him as his wife, 
and that no cradle ought ever to liave 
been brought into that liouse. 

I do not believe that to bear children is 
the chief mission of woman, or that the 
perpetuation of the race has anything 
more than the slenderest relation to mar- 
riage. 

There is a far higher purpose to be 
subserved by marriage than this. 

Let me see if I cannot so plead my case 
as to convince you. A man and a woman^ 
for example, love each other, and this 
love is the mas^ician whose business it is 



236 BROWN STUDIES. 

to weld tlieir souls, not their bodies — for 
true love lias little to do with flesh and 
blood — and make them one. 

What the sun is to our solar system, 
that, and nothing less, love is to a human 
being who has brains enough to appreci- 
ate it. 

Love, of the kind I refer to, leads in- 
evitably to marriage. The two can no 
more be kept apart than bits of magne- 
tized iron. 

After marriage comes a home : the asy- 
lum of the tii-ed and harassed, the place 
of peace and contentment when the day 
is done in which j^ou have been chased by 
a whole pack of hounds — cares, anxieties, 
responsibilities, disappointments. 

The mfe is the husband's evangel. No 
other woman can serve him as well, be- 
cause he loves no other woman. She is 
his comforter, and by the hearthstone 
which is blessed with her presence he is 
renewed in soul. She is his physician, 
and the medicament which she furnishes 



WHY DO WE MARRY f 237 

with oiitstretclied arms and a kiss gives 
him a better hold on life. She is his 
priestess, and with the delightful entice- 
ments of a holy nature she makes him 
hopeful and faithful and noble. 

The husband is the woman's Sir Knight, 
who every evening conies home from the 
wars, lays aside his helmet and coat of 
mail, Jiangs his sword behind the door, 
and tells her with proud lips of his vic- 
.tor}^, or with trembling lips confesses his 
defeat. He has no secrets from her. She 
can look into his eyes and see his soul. 
His is the strong right arm on which she 
leans, and she proudh^ recognizes his 
courage and valor. If she is tried by 
domestic embarrassments, or if she is 
worn in body or depressed in mind, he 
holds her to his heart, and a miracle is 
the result ; for she smiles once more, the 
prospect has lost its dreariness, and she 
becomes as young and fresh and bright 
as she was in the old days. 

That is true marriage ; that is the only 



238 BBOWX STUDIES. 

relation that can be dignified by tlie name 
of marriage, and all otlier kinds are 
^' leather and prunella." 

In sucli a marriage there is constant 
development. The man who has the ideal 
wife becomes more manl}^; the woman 
Avho has an ideal husband becomes more 
womanly. Their experiences are an edu- 
cation for both. Four hands work to- 
gether as though there were only two. 
Neither is superior to the other, for the 
one is like the long sword of King Rich- 
ard, with which he cut a bar of iron, and 
the other is like the scimitar of Saladin, 
with which he cleft a floating veil in twain. 
Being so different, they cannot be com- 
pared, for the work of l^oth is necessary, 
and neither could do what the other does 
easily. Superiority and inferiority are 
small questions to such a couple, and are 
never discussed, for he is all to her and 
she is all to him. 

The moment you introduce the physical 



WHY DO WE MABRYf 239 

element into sncli a relation yon debase 
it. The marriage of sncli a conple lias no 
fonndation of passion — tliongii passion 
may be incidental to it — and tlieir love is 
not in the slightest degree dependent on 
their bodies. That love is of such rare 
and perfect quality that if they had no 
bodies, if such a thing as passion were an 
impossibilit}^, it would be as pure and 
true as ever. When death comes, and 
their bodies are placed under the sod, 
they will find each other in the higher 
world, and continue their companionship 
without any sense of loss from the absence 
of material and fleshly desires. Theirs is 
a marriage of soul, and the relation can 
be continued in heaven and throughout 
eternity. 

Now let me come back to the question, 
What is it the duty of Clara van Brunt 
to do ? What should an enlightened pub- 
lic opinion demand that she shall do? 



240 BliOWX STUDIES. 

The Bradford van Brunt of to-day is not 
the man she married twelve years ago, 
for he has changed in some important 
particulars. If she should meet him for 
the first tune now, and he should attempt 
to pay court to her, she would treat him 
with something more effective than in- 
difference. 

Dimng these twelve years he has grown 
to be less and less of a man and she has 
become more and more of a woman. His 
influence over her, so far as he has any 
at all, is one of suppression. Her influ- 
ence over him is just nothing at all. 
They are strangers to each other, and yet 
the law allows him to claim privileges 
which she would sooner take a deadly 
poison than grant. 

Ought she to surrender her right to 
be the w^oman God intended her to be ; 
should she practically defeat the purposes 
of Providence, and remain dwarfed, an 
arrested development, because she hap- 



TVHY DO WE MARRY? 241 

pens to have made a mistake in her girl- 
hood and married the wrong man ? 

I confess I think not. If society can not 
get on without such sacrifices as that, if 
what we call moral progress is interfered 
with because a woman wants to set her- 
self right after having taken a misstep, 
then moral progress is neither progress 
nor moral. 

I do not wish to be too radical, but 
above all things I demand for €very one, 
man and woman alike, the divine right 
to escape from misery and to lay hold on 
happiness if it is possible to do so, and I 
think the world is moved by wrong prin- 
ciples if it puts its iron hand on man or 
woman to f orl:>id the exercise of that right. 

Clara and Bradford are not married 
except in a legal sense, and that law is a 
piece of stupid folly which compels her 
to be — for that is what it amounts to — 
compels her to be the mistress of a man 
whom she does not love and cannot love. 



242 BBOWN STUDIES. 

The sacrifice called for is too fearful 
to contemplate, and I am firmly of the 
opinion that true morality is more im- 
peded by their remaining together than 
it could be by their drawing apart and 
seeking each his own happiness and de- 
velopment in a different environment. 



CHAPTER X. 



WAS IT A VISION 



How time slips away ! I sometimes 
feel that life is a good deal like a tobog- 
gan-slide, where you begin your journey 
at an almost hesitating pace, but, gather- 
ing momentum with every rod, at last 
rush on with incredible speed, until the 
exhausted impulse gradually gives way, 
and you go slower and slower, until at 
last you come to a standstill. 

I spent a few weeks in Montreal last 
winter, and enjoyed the sport amazingly. 
My friends were enthusiasts and all young. 
They insisted that I was no older than 
Madge, who had just turned twenty, and 
managed to imbue me with the idea that 
243 



244 BROU'X STUDIES. 

the family Bible in wliieli the year of my 
birth is noted reported the event ineor- 
recth\ They persuaded me that I had 
just left college the summer before ; that 
my being in business for twenty years 
was all an illusion. So I put on my 
^Yi'aps and in due time took my place on 
the toboggan. 

For a single brief moment I felt that I 
had saddled a comet and w^as careering 
through space with destruction close at 
hand; but when I got through the first 
experience with no danger to life or limb 
I entered into the spirit of the pastime, 
and w^as loath to give it up even for a 
good dinner. 

Well, that toboggan-slide is a perfect 
symbol of our human life. In our child- 
hood w^e think the days will never pass, 
and the space between Wednesday after- 
noon and the Saturday holiday is like a 
very considerable section of eternity. The 
hours drag themselves along with the 



WAS IT A riSIOXf 245 

quiet deliberation of an ox-team on a 
country road. But later on, when we 
take our first dash into the business of 
life, they quicken their pace, and after w^e 
get past middle age they hasten with such 
breathless fury and such impetuous im- 
patience that we are reminded of an ex- 
press-train which throws the miles behind 
it so rapidly that the telegraph-poles make 
a sort of picket-fence on the side of the 
road. Then at sixty-five or se^^enty we 
begin to slow up, our vital energy dissi- 
pates itself, the wheels no longer turn 
with the joyful hum of earlier times, and 
after a little some friend comes to our 
bedside and remarks in a whisper that 
the train has stopped altogether. 

Is it possible that, like the tobogganer, 
we can climb through death up the hill 
again, and take another slide, on another 
toboggan, down the slope of another life ? 
Or, having taken one slide, got used to 
sport, and enjoyed it so much that we 



246 BEOWX STUDIES. 

long for one more trip, for many more 
trips of the same kind, are we to be told 
that one tremulous, terrif^dng, but excit- 
ing slide is all there is to it, and that 
when it is over we must stow the tobog- 
gan in one corner and be ready for death 
to stow us away in another corner? If 
the young folks of Montreal can take a 
second slide down the icy hill why should 
I not hope to take a second slide down 
the slope of eternity ? 

But excuse this digression. I was 
brought to the mood which has forced 
me to ssij these things by something that 
occurred last night. If what I heard can 
be trusted, this second toboggan-slide for 
which we are all looking will be accorded 
to us, and that thought has made me very 
cheerful all day. I looked into the face 
of Leo during my brown study, and as 
the dear fellow put his paws on my 
shoulders and affectionately snapped at 
my whiskers, he seemed to say, " My mas- 



WAS IT A riSIOX? 247 

ter, will yon go on that second toboggan- 
slide down the eternal liill witliont me? 
I am only a dog, bnt I am loyal, and i3er- 
haps you would miss me in tliat other 
life." Then I answered, " Leo, you faith- 
ful friend, where I go you shall go too. 
If there is immortality for me there must 
be something of the kind for you also." 

Now then for the dream I had last 
night. I call it a dream for want of a 
more appropriate name, but was it only 
that? 

I wish I were a magician, that I might 
bring to the camp some savant who knows 
all about the nervous system and the 
occult forces which dwell in our brain- 
cells. I am so mystified by what occurred 
that I have been wondering if some silent 
physical revolution has been going on 
within which reached its culmination yes- 
terday. Perhaps this savant could tell 
me, and explain the puzzle on well-known 
principles. 



248 BBOWN STUDIES. 

I have never had an experience of the 
kind iDefore, or anything like it. Surely 
I am not so old that I have become child- 
ish. My pulse is strong, my digestion is 
good, my general health is better than it 
has been since my boyhood, and yet I am 
dazed, bewildered, and utterly confused. 

Well, if it was not a dream, could it 
have been a vision? I have heard of 
such things, but must confess 1 never 
had much faith in them. Besides, it has 
always been my impression that only 
people in an abnormal state, people who 
are more or less hysterical, whose ima- 
ginations easily run away with them, see 
these strange sights. Of course I have 
read something — I suppose every man 
has, for that matter — about psychology 
and hypnotism, but I have looked upon 
them as a kind of fad, without any 
scientific basis. I hurried through some 
strange stories in the rsycliical Review 
last summer, but somehow I c^ot the no- 



WAS IT A risioxr 249 

tion tliat I was reading fables or distorted 
and exaggerated facts. 

What sliall I say now f Am I to take 
my place also in tlie list of unbalanced 
creatures? Or can it be true — but that 
is impossible. 

Let me thiidv again, and ask, Wliy is it 
impossible? or still another question, 
namely, Is anything impossible? or a 
third question. Is a thing impossible be- 
cause it lies outside of the range of our 
usual experience ? 

Do you believe, does any one whose 
mental apparatus is in good order be- 
lieve, that under any conditions whatever 
a man can see what is happening a thou- 
sand miles away? And if lie thinks he 
sees these occurrences is it because his 
mind is stimulated in some occult way, or 
is it that he is made up of two different 
materials, a body and a soul, and that 
while the body is confined to a given 
space the soul may open the door and 



250 BROWN STUDIES. 

take flight to distant localities, stay as 
long as it pleases, and tlien come liome 
again, go tlirougli tlie same door, and 
occnpy its old place ? 

What am I talking abont? I confess 
to being snrprised at myself. I am as- 
tonished that I, bronght np, as I was, in 
the strictest faith of the chnrch, can even 
allow myself to entertain snch ideas. 
And yet what am I to do ? There is my 
vision, or dream, or whatever you please 
to call it, and I mnst acconnt for it. 

If this cannot be done on the piinciples 
in which I was educated I must hunt 
round and- find if there are not other 
principles in the world which have here- 
tofore escaped my notice, and which will 
solve ni}^ problem. 

If I could deny the facts, if my memory 
were blurred, or if I had overheated or 
overworked myself, and so taxed my 
nerves beyond the point of healthy strain, 
I would instantly brush everything aside 



TT^^^ IT A VISION f 251 

as an iUusion, and so end the contro- 
versy. 

But I am bonnd to be fair to myself, 
and will not dispose of tliis matter by 
strategy, or allow my prejndices to over- 
whelm it. I shall meet it sqiiarely, and 
if by and by I discover that what was re- 
vealed is trne I AviU readily admit a good 
many things which now I brnsquely deny. 

Lot me tell my story in my own way, 
and, if I seem to be somewhat excited, 
yon may still assnre yonrself that I shall 
tell the exact trnth as I understand it. 

John came into my room soon after 
snpper with a tremendous armful of 

woodo 

"They are hickory logs, every one of 

'em," he said. 

" And I'm in just the mood for a big 

blaze." 

"Well, sir, I gness this stuff will sat- 
isfy you.' I hadn't much to do this morn- 



252 BROWN STUDIES. 

ing except to clean my gun and help Sim 
witli the chores ; so I picked out the best 
sticks in the pile, and there they are. 
You won't need no lamp, sir, for \ylien 
this wood gets goin' it'll fill the room 
like sunlight." 

Three good-sized logs of dry pitch-piue 
foi- a foundation, four pieces of hickory 
as large around as ycmr thigh on top, and 
Ave had the prophecy of as fine a blaze as 
you ever gazed at. 

There was something merry and musi- 
cal in the crackling flames, as though a 
regiment were firing by . platoons. I 
could not sit still, but walked back and 
forth in front of the huge fireplace with 
tlie most delightful feeling of repose and 
contentment in iny heart. I was sorry 
that the season was drawing to its close, 
and the time approaching which I had 
fixed for my departure. I have had such 
an enjoyable winter, full of pleasant 



WAS IT A VISION f 253 

thoughts and varied reminiscences ! The 
loneliness of the first few days passed 
away, and I have not since missed the 
familiar faces of my friends in New York. 
The solitude has charmed me, and I have 
fallen in love with it. My life has been 
simple, agreeable, and in every way prof- 
itable. 

'' Tell me, Leo, haven't we had a plea- 
sant time together? And we haven't 
longed once for the hubbub and hurry of 
other days, have we, sir f " 

He said nothing, but shook his head 
very wisely, and wagged his tail, as though 
he were uttering a series of aniens. 

After half an hour I sat down in my 
easy-chair, for the spirit of reverie had 
crept over me. In imagination I saw 
fantastic figures above the burning logs. 
As one sees faces and figures in the 
clouds, so I saw figures and faces in the 
flames. They danced for a brief moment 



254 



BliOWX STUDIES. 



in mad glee, and tlien disappeared up 
the cliimney, to be followed, however, by 
others still more fantastical. 

Yes, I mnst have been in a strange 
state of mind, and cannot recall anything 
like it in my past experience. 

While sitting with my right hand rest- 
ing on the arm of the chair I seemed to 
step out of my body, and stand beside it, 
looking upon it with mingled curiosity 
and astonishment. I felt as light as air, 
and said to m^-self, ''This must be what 
St. Paul calls the spiritual body." It is 
true that I looked on what sat in the chaii* 
with a kind of tenderness, but the sense 
of freedom which I soon became conscious 
of was almost ecstatic, and it seemed as 
though I would not go back into those 
narrow quarters again for worlds. The 
body was so clumsy, so heavy, so un- 
comely, so uncouth and ungraceful, while 
this other body, on the contrary, was a 
delight, a dream, a poem. 



WAS IT A VISION f 255 

Then something happened which per- 
haps yon may explain ; bnt I confess that 
it pnzzled me at the time and has con- 
tinned to puzzle me ever since. I moved 
away from my body toward the door, 
thinking to open it and go ont into the 
starlight ; bnt to my surprise I found that 
the door was no obstruction whatever. 
I simply passed through it as the sun's 
rays pass through a pane of glass. When 
I stood in front of the camp I knew that 
a cold wind was blowing, and that it 
came from the snow-banks far away to 
the north of us 5 but I was not chilled. I 
could feel its impact and hear it whisthng 
through the forest, bnt was not affected 
by it in the least degree. 

I shall never be able to tell you how 
the stars looked that night. The heavens 
were an astonishing revelation to me. 
Not only did I see with perfectly clear 
vision, but there seemed to be a penetrat- 
ing, a far-reaching quality to my sight 



256 BROWX STUDIES. 

which doubled the number of glistening 
lights above me, and the spectacle was so 
marvelous, so beautiful, that I stood en- 
tranced. 

I have heard of a boy who was born 
near-sighted, and to whom all nature ap- 
peared to be dim and blurred. He had 
never seen the trees and the lakes and 
the mountains as we see them. Some 
one fitted to his eyes one day a pair of 
glasses, and then bade him look. He 
was wonderstruck, awestruck, for a new 
world opened to him. He could see the 
changing shadows of the woods, the far- 
away ripple on the lake, the boiling stream- 
let tumbling from rock to rock a half- 
mile away; and after a few minutes of 
ecstasy he burst into tears. 

In the same way, and from the same 
cause, was I also overwhelmed. I was in 
closer relations T\dth nature than ever be- 
fore. I actually trembled with immea- 
surable delight, and a wonderful feeling 



WA^ IT A FUSION? 257 

of reverence crept through my whole 
being. I said to myseK, '' When my eyes 
get used to this new Hglit I shall see the 
angels, for I can hear the rustling of 
their wings, and I know they are not far 
away." 

Then I stepped back into the room to 
get another glimpse of the bod}^ It was 
still in the chair, and I noticed that the 
breast rose and fell at regular intervals. 
'' It is not dead," I said, " only in some 
mj^sterions way I haA^e stepped out of it. 
I shall have to retnrn to it by and by," 
and at that thought I shuddered. It 
seemed such an undesirable home to live 
in that I almost hoped the heart wonld 
cease to beat, that I might be forever free 
to go where I pleased. 

While I stood there Leo awoke from a 
long nap, stretched, yawned, and then 
looked about the room. He approached 
my body in the usual way, with a wag of 
the tail, snuffed at my legs, and then ap- 



258 BROWN STUDIES. 

peared to be confused and disappointed. 
Something was not as he expected to 
find it, and I wondered at the time what 
it could be. He then deliberately, but 
it seemed to me rather disconsolately, 
walked around the chair to the point from 
which he started, and snuffed at my legs 
a second time. Not satisfied, he sat on 
his haunches for a full minute gazing 
into the face, and I thought that perhaps 
his confusion arose from the fact that the 
eyes were closed and the body appeared to 
be asleep. On ordinary occasions, when 
he wished to wake me from a doze he put 
his paws on my knees, and gave a quick, 
sharp bark, as though to say, '^ Come, 
master, rouse yourself." But this time 
he must have concluded that a serious 
mishap had occurred, for he exhibited 
signs of terror, his tongue hung out of 
his mouth, his eyes had an expression of 
agony in them, and he uttered a pro- 
longed but low and moui-nful howl. 



WJS IT A VISION f 259 

Scarcely had it ended, however, when 
he apparently caught sight of me stand- 
ing by the door. With a single leap he 
reached my side, but turned instantly, 
took his place between me and the body, 
looked first at one and then at the other, 
and trembled in evident agony. 

I have heard that animals can see spir- 
its. How far the testimony supporting 
such a statement can be trusted I am 
unable to say, but in this instance I am 
sure that Leo saw what was in the chair 
and also what stood by the door. 

My only hesitation lies in the fact that 
I do not know whether all this is an hal- 
lucination, and whether this most marvel- 
ous experience is to be relied upon or not. 
I can only declare that it appeared to be 
real at the time, and that I have not been 
able since then to make it appear other- 
wise. 

Just then the thought of my lost love, 
lost to me forever, but still dear, came 



260 BBOWX ISTUVIES. 

into my mind. The most intense desire 
to see her seized me. It was a longing 
so poignant, so sharp, that it was painful. 

This ardor seemed to be an impelling 
force, and I flew with incredible speed 
through the darkness. The camp, the 
lake, the mountains, were lost to view 
almost instantly, while other mountains 
and lakes came mthin range of my as- 
tonished vision. What gave direction to 
my flight I cannot tell, unless it was that 
wonderful instinct which enables the 
homing pigeon to fly back from a point, 
however distant, without the possibility 
of error. I had no doubt as to the route 
I should take, but became so confused 
while journeying that I hardly noticed 
the landscape that lay far below me. 

When I came to myself again I was 
walking along a country road, on either 
side of which were wild-flowers in rare 
abundance. Only a few minutes before 
I was in the midst of March cold, snow, 



i 



WJS IT J VISION? 261 

ice, and a dead vegetation, but now the 
air was filled with fragrance; and I was 
ahiiost oppressed by the perfume of 
orange-blossoms. 

Passing house after house, I began to 
•wonder how I could discover where She 
lived. My surprise was greatest, how- 
ever, W'hen, as I came to a certain point 
on the road, I stood still and foimd it im- 
possible to proceed. Something held me 
to the spot. 

Then I looked up at the house. It was 
])eautifully situated, back some hundred 
feet from the road, an old-fashioned house, 
rather dilapidated, but surrounded l)y 
trees of exquisite foliage. 

In one window was a feeble light shin- 
ing through the curtains, w^hich had been 
carefully drawn. 

Strange thoughts came to me as I stood 
with one hand resting on the gate-post 
covered with blossoming creepers. " She 
is there," I said under my breath, '' and 



26i 



BBOJJX STUDIES. 



is suffering. Will she know me, will slie 
even be able to see me? Can I do any- 
thing to relieve her distress, can I help 
her bear her great bnrden f " 

There was no selfishness in my heart 
at that moment. I did not think of the 
disappointment which had l)roken my life, 
nor of the love I still bore her. A pnre 
emotion filled my whole being, sorrow for 
her grief untinged with a single reference 
to myself. It was a holy love, such as 
the angels have for one another in heaven, 
v,here there is neither marriage nor giv- 
ing in marriage. 

At length I summoned courage to enter. 
I found my way up the stairs without 
difficulty. Turning to the right, I noticed 
that the chamber-door was ajar, and I 
heard the irregular and painful breathing 
of the sick man. 

The next moment I was in the room. 
Standing close by the mndow I was com- 
paratively in shadow, for the candle on 



WAS IT A VISION? 263 

the mantelpiece had in front of it a large 
book to keep the light from falling on 
the sleeper's face. This was a great re- 
lief, because I looked upon myself as an 
intruder. A sacredness hedges in a sick- 
room which must needs be always re- 
spected, and under ordinary circumstances 
I should have felt no inclination to cross 
that threshold. I confess, however, to a 
certain curiosity which impelled me, since 
I could not be observed, to note the sur- 
roundings in which She had lived so 
many years. 

It was evident, at a glance, that the 
household had need to practise a rigid 
economy, but there was everywhere a 
simplicity and refinement of taste. The 
pictures on the walls were few, and their 
frames were iu a worn condition, but the 
engravings were of the best — old, to be 
sure, and somewhat soiled by time, but 
still quite worth hanging in any gentle- 
man's house. On the table between the 



264 BROWN STUDIES. 

windows, and on another table at the foot 
of the bed, were bunches of wild-flowers, 
while in one corner was a small bookcase 
containing a score or two of the classics 
of English literature, with another score 
of French and German novels. 

Sitting at the bedside of the poor suf- 
ferer, with her back toward me, was 
Margaret ; and when I first caught sight 
of that familiar form, now bent Avith sad 
experiences, I had for an instant a strong 
desire to get away, for memories of the 
past rushed through my mind with such 
impetuous fury that I could hardly con- 
tain myself. 

I cannot tell you how I was affected, 
but I am certain that it was by a different 
kind of feeling from what I should have 
had if I had brought my body with me. 
It is true that I suffered pain at sight of 
her, but it was the kind of pain which a 
spirit might suffer^ and there was nothing 
physical or even earthly in it. 



WAS IT A nSIOyf 265 

Soon the sleeper moved and woke. 
Margaret bent over him, pnt her cool 
hand on his hot forehead, and whispered 
something w^hich I could not hear. 

But I did hear what followed. 

" Margaret/' and the voice was hollow 
and feeble, " how late is it ? " 

" Ten minutes after ten," in the low% 
quiet, musical tones w^hich had so often 
thrilled me. 

" I think I'm going, Margaret." 

She shook her head, and bade him try 
to sleep once more. 

" No," he replied, " my hour has come. 
I am sure of it, Margaret." 

Then came a moment of silence, broken 
only by a sigh. 

" You have been a good wdfe, dear one, 
l)ut — "then he stopped and gave her a 
searching gaze, as though he would read 
her soul. 

She smoothed his hand in a half-caress- 
nig way. 



26B 



BROWN STUDIES. 



He summoned strength to finish the 
sentence: "But, Margaret, it was a mis- 
take. It ought not to have been. I liave 
always known it, dear, but had not the 
courage to say it. Now I am near the 
end, and I think I shall die easier if I tell 
you this. 

"It was a mistake," he whispered a 
minute later, and with those words on his 
lips he fell asleep. 

I could stand it no longer. My whole 
being throbbed, and I became uncontrol- 
lably excited^ 

A mistake ! How could I fail to know 
what those words meant ? Did they not 
refer to that weii-d and ghastly episode 
when she was frenzied with baseless jeal- 
ousy and gave her hand to Edward partly 
in revenge and partly in desperation ? 

A mistake ! She must have learned 
when it was too late that there was no 
cause for our estrangement, that it was 
all the work of a mischievous creature, a 



WAS IT A VISION? 267 

kind of human spider, who seemed to hate 
every man and woman who loved each 
other, and busied herself in exasperating 
them. Of course Margaret knew that I 
had never married, and perhaps recalled 
the first line of that poem which I dedi- 
cated to her : 

" Only one face in all the Avoiid for me." 

Overcome by my emotions, I strode 
across the room, determined to declare 
myself. I stood at the foot of the bed, 
and called out, in tones which seemed as 
loud as those of a church-bell, "Marga- 
ret ! Margaret ! " 

For an instant I thought she heard me, 
for she raised her head as thougli in the 
act of listening, but immediately after- 
ward resumed her old 230sition and fixed 
her eyes on the dying man. 

I suffered tortures at the thought that 
I was invisible and could not make her 
reco2:nize me. I even went to her side 



268 BliOWy STUDIES. 

and placed my hand on hers, hoping that 
by contact she would feel me near. 

Perhaps she did. At any rate, she 
looked np, then rose from her chaii', went 
to the other side of the room, and stood 
there for thirty seconds looking at a little, 
old, framed photograph on the wall. 

I followed, and, peering over her shoul- 
der, saw a picture of myself. 

At that I knelt, took her hand in mine, 
and reverently kissed it. But she took 
no notice of the act, and soon went back 
to her place by the sick man's side. 

Just before twelve Edward roused once 
more, and it was clear that the last mo- 
ments had arrived. His breathing was 
slow and short, and there was the expres- 
sion in his eyes which only death can put 
there. 

He looked steadily at Margaret, drew 
his poor, wan hand from under the cover- 
lid, placed it in hers, and tried to say 
something, but failed. 



WJS IT A VISION? 269 

Then lie turned as though to take a 
last look at the room, and while doing so 
his eyes rested on me. A kind of sur- 
prise kindled in them, and with all his 
remaining strength he stretched both 
hands in my direction, whispered hoarsely, 
'' Clarence ! Clarence ! " and then fell back 
in a kind of stupor. 

I am sure he saw me. It could not 
have been a coincidence. I cannot ex- 
plain it, and will not attempt to, bat that 
man's soul, half freed from his body, saw 
my soul standing at the foot of the bed, 
and, recognizing me, called me by name. 
I have never had a doubt of that, and 
never shall have. 

I admit that it is incredible, but are 
there not instances of a similar nature in 
the history of nearly every family which 
has made the acquaintance of death? 
Who shall say that they do not mean 
what they seem to mean ? 

You may be enmeshed in skepticism, 



270 BBOWX STUDIES. 

and summon a formidable arra}^ of argu- 
ments against the immortal life ; but one 
such experience as that seals your lips, 
and debate becomes an impossibility. 
There stands the fact, which you can no 
more deny than you can deny any other 
patent fact of your daily life. It is vivid, 
startling, thrilling, but still it is a fact, 
and no amount of thinking will brush it 
aside witliout brushing aside at the same 
time every other event which you have 
always regarded as reality. 

At the end of about ten minutes Ed- 
ward slowly opened his eyes and gazed 
about in a dazed sort of way, as one does 
when he has been in a bright light and 
then falls upon sudden darkness. At 
length he seemed to gather himself to- 
gether, making, as it was plain to me, a 
mighty effort. 

He whispered, " Paper and pencil." 
Margaret, too, was bewildered, and for 
a moment thought his mind was wander- 



WAS IT A VISION f 271 

ing. But his voice grew more imperative, 
and a second time lie cried, feebly : 

" Paper and pencil ! Quick ! I have 
no time to spare ! " 

She brought him a pad and a pencil. 

He wrote about two pages, I judged, 
signed the note, and folded it. 

I was curious to know the contents of 
that letter, for the situation and the cir- 
cumstances were rather remarkable ; but 
though I was only a spirit, and apparently 
invisible, it struck me that the incident 
was not one for me to inquire into, and 
so I maintained my position. 

A moment later he said, ^' Margaret ! " 

"Yes, dear." 

" An envelope." 

He placed the note in the envelope, 
sealed it, wrote some one's name on it, 
and handed it to his wife. 

She read the superscription and heaved 
a great sigh. 

" In good time," said the dying man, 



BROWN STUDIES. 



'' you will find Mm. It is your fate. De- 
liver it to him personally." 

She shook her head, as though the task 
would be an unwelcome one, but he an- 
swered her gesture by saying, " It is right. 
I wish it." 

With that he turned his head to one 
side, breathed heavily for a few moments, 
and then aU was still. 

Margaret was alone mth her dead, or 
at least thought she was. 

She was not alone though, for I was 
there with her. 

I looked at the clock, and it was just 
three minutes past twelve. 

What happened immediately afterward 
I do not remember. I onty recall in very 
dim fashion that I had orders from some 
source, though whence they came I can- 
not say, to return at once to my camp. 
I suppose I must have crawled back into 
my body on my arrival, but have no rec- 
ollection whatever of doing so. 



JFAS IT A VISION? 273 

I only know that I was ronsed by John, 
who put his hand on my shoulder in rather 
rough fashion. 

'^You were so sound asleep I could 
hardly wake you, sir." 

"Ah! is that you, John? I believe I 
am a bit dazed." 

"I called, sir, and you didn't answer. 
Then I thought it best to wake you in 
an}^ way I could, but had to shake ^-ou 
with all my might." 

" Yes, yes ; thank you, John. I never 
slept so in my life before. Is it late f " 

" Time for bed, sir." 

"What is the hour?" 

"Just three minutes and a half past 
twelve, sir." 

Had I really made the j our ney from Flor- 
ida to the Adirondacks in thirty seconds ? 

But I was in no frame of mind to think 
the problem out, for I was confused and 
perplexed, dazed and bewildered. 

" Come, Leo, let's to bed." 



274 BROWN STUDIES. 

I ought to add to this chapter a very 
remarkable verification of the ap^Darent 
fact that in some way or other I was actu- 
ally present and "witnessed that death-bed 
scene a thousand miles distant from these 
woods. 

After I had retired on that eventful 
night I was naturally unable to sleep. I 
constantly said to myself, " It was an un- 
usually vivid dream — nothing more; and 
when you take your family physician into 
your confidence he will explain it on purely 
scientific grounds, and show you, first, that 
the soul can never leave the body except 
when it leaves it for good, and, second, 
that this apparent journey over so great 
a distance in so short a space of time is 
not merely incredible, but impossible." 

But though I argued with myself in 
this way, and made a determined eifort 
to drop asleep, I was not satisfied, and did 
not become even drowsy. I tossed rest- 
lessly, listening to the measured tick of 
the clock, wondering if I had gone mad. 



WAS IT A VISIONf 275 

The clock struck one, but I was wider 
awake than ever. I could hear the labored 
breathing of the two guides in the next 
room, and the suppressed growl or inoan 
of the dog, who was perha]3s chasing some 
imaginary game, and these drove me wild. 

Then the clock struck two. I sat up 
in bed and watched the flickering flames 
in the fireplace. They shot across the 
dark room in a ghastly way, and painted 
fantastic figures on the opposite wall. 
The air seemed too heavy to breathe, and 
through sheer nervousness I found myself 
gasping. My heart went like a trip-ham- 
mer, and my head was hot. 

I could have sworn that there were in 
that room invisible beings, for I felt them, 
and their presence oppressed me beyond 
the power of words to describe. 

At last, and just as that demoniac clock 
struck three, I cried aloud, ^'T can stand 
this no longer. Unless I get relief in some 
way I shall die." With that I sprang out 
of bed and hastily dressed mvself. It 



276 BBOJVX STUDIES. 

occurred to me that it migiit be well to 
jot down my impressions, and tlie date, 
and the exact hour when I saw Edward 
Waring die. This was not a difficult task, 
for it has always been my habit to keep a 
journal. 

The mental labor connected with this 
gave me great comfort, and when I had 
finished, just as the clock struck four, I 
found to my great delight that I was 
positively drowsy, and in less than fifteen 
minutes was fast asleep. 

It was on the 5th of Marcli that this 
strange thing happened to me, and dur- 
ing the next few days I managed to re- 
gain control of myself and look upon the 
whole affair as one of those curious hal- 
lucinations of which medical books are 
so full. My nervous system, I concluded, 
had received a sudden shock, and tliese 
effects were produced by the imagination, 
which dug up from my brain-cells an odd 



WAS IT A VISION? 211 

lot of impressions and wove them into tlie 
shape of a vision. 

On the eighth day I received a letter 
from my cousin in Florida. " Ah ! " I said 
to myself, ^'now I sliall discover how I 
have been deceived." 

Still I hesitated to open the letter, partly 
hecanse what had happened had come to 
be rather sacred to me, and I did not 
wish to have the delusion destroyed, and 
partly becanse, if the delnsion was de- 
stroyed, I should feel that I had fallen 
into an abnormal condition both of mind 
and body, which was an intensely dis- 
agreeable thought. 

Judge, therefore, of my surprise when 
I read these paragraphs : 

" Edward Waring has been a great suf- 
ferer since I last wrote you. We all did 
what we could, but fate was against the 
poor fellow. The disease had worked in- 
sidiously, and remedial agencies were too 
late in their arrival. 



BROWN STUDIES. 



'^I may tell you confidentially, since 
it is all over, that the marriage was in 
every way unfortunate. Both Edward 
and Margaret ]*ecognized that they Avere 
unsuited to each other j but they stood 
nobly by their contract, and fui'nished 
an example of patience, of suffering in 
silence, and of forbearance, which others 
may well follow. He was gentle and kind 
to a degree, and she was — well, she was 
a saint, and deserves to be canonized. 

"But the end came at last. He knew 
he was going, and the parting must have 
been pathetic. There are some details 
which I cannot trust myself to put in 
writing. When I see you you shall know 
all, and when you do know all you will 
be as greatly surprised as I was when 
Margaret confided them to me. 

" Let it suffice that Edward died quietly, 
peacefully, and mth a calm submission to 
the will of God. He breathed his last on 



WAS IT A VISIONf 279 

the night of March 5th, at exactly three 
minutes past twelve o'clock." 

I was so astounded at all this that the 
letter dropped from my hands and my 
eyes filled with tears. 

The theory of hallucination was appa- 
rently disposed of. My nervous system 
was not out of order, and I had not suf- 
fered from temporary aberration of mind. 

It became as clear to me as the daylight 
that on that night I was by the bedside 
of Edward Waring and saw him die. I 
can account for the facts in no other way. 

But how I accomplished the feat, by 
what means it became possible for me to 
defy the laws of time and space — that is 
beyond my reckoning, and I dare not even 
attempt to explain it. 



CHAPTER XI. 



BALKED BY FATE. 



Well, the time has come to break up. 
I have stayed two weeks longer than the 
holiday allotted to me, and yet there are 
strange regrets in my heart at thought 
of saying good-by to the old camp. 

What happy days and nights I have 
had here ! My nerves were rather un- 
strung when I met Dr. Van Nest in Broad- 
way last autumn, but now they are like 
so many threads of steel. My muscles, 
also, were soft — for what exercise can a 
man get in a city ? — but since I have been 
here I have cut down forty good-sized 
trees — all my own trees, too — and split 
them into fire- wood. Besides, I have had 
long tramps with my gun, ha^-e skated on 
280 




MY OWN TREES, TOO. Page 280. 



BALKED BY FATE. 281 

the lake whenever opportunity oifered, 
have taken long excursions with the ice- 
boat, have cut holes in ice two feet thick 
and fished for trout, and have had all the 
fresh air I wanted. I am as tough as a 
hickory-Hmb, as brown as a cake of Mail- 
lard's chocolate, and have an appetite — 
but concerning that you had better con- 
sult Sim. I think he will say that I Lave 
done entire justice to his skill as a cook. 

And now I must go. Leave the camp, 
and these blue skies, and these clouds, 
just as the spring opens and the crocuses 
are welcoming the new season f That 
seems hard. I love the old place, yes, I 
love every blessed thing about it. Per- 
haps it has faults, but I cannot see them. 
Possibly it has inconveniences, but I 
have not discovered them. 

" What say you, Leo ? Have you had 
a good time — as good a time as your 
master has had ? " 

The dear fellow looked at me quizzi- 



BBOJVX STUDIES. 



cally, wagged his tail in a very mournful 
way, and seemed to answer, " You know 
that all outdoors is none too much for a 
dog. You may like the noise and dust of 
the city, but you can't expect me to share 
your enthusiasm." 

" So you don't want to go back, eh ! " I 
asked. 

He sat on his haunches, opened his 
mouth in an expectant way, looked at me 
rather sadly with those two great brown 
eyes, which are so full of eloquence, and 
then T\ith a short staccato bark walked 
off into one corner, indulged in a long 
yawn, and lay down. 

I knew what he meant, and it was this : 
" Master, why do you ask me such a fool- 
ish question ? I don't want to hurt your 
feelings with an appropriate reply, and so 
choose to keep silent. But is the spring 
nothing in a glorious country like this? 
Don't you care to see the sun climbing 
higher in the heavens, and the stars that 
are hidden in the winter come ont in their 



BALKED BY FATE. 283 

beauty, and the maples and ashes and 
birches putting forth their new leaves, 
and the green grass creeping over the 
ground as though some one were lay- 
ing a carpet, and — " but that was 
enough. I turned and looked out of the 
window. 

" The dog is right," I said to myself. 
''Every season is beautiful in the coun- 
try. Nature is a wonderful old dame. 
She gives us something unique in winter, 
when the hills and valle^^s are asleej), and 
the north wind sings its lullaby; she 
changes the scene to one of inexpressible 
lovehness in the spring, when the world 
rouses itself from slumber, and the hum 
of a new life is heard everywhere ; when 
the farmer drives his team afield, and 
with plow and harrow turns up the invig- 
orated sod and smooths it for his plant- 
ing ; she scatters flowers by every roadside 
in summer, and takes pleasure in exhib- 
iting that marvelous alchemy by which 
the wild rose and honevsuckle can distil 



284 



BEOWN STUDIES. 



the perfume that makes the air fragrant, 
and by which the kernels of corn and 
wheat multiply themselves with such gen- 
erous prodigality that the barns are filled 
to bursting ; and she throws a somber hue 
over everything in autumn, the breezes 
singing in the minor key as they sweep 
through the branches, great flocks of 
birds scenting the coming snowfall and, 
under the leadership of a mysterious in- 
stinct, winging their long flight over 
mountains and waters in search of a 
frienlllier clime. 

" Yes, every season has its charm ; and 
if I could have my own way I would linger 
here, live and die here ; live in peace and 
contentment, and, dying, sleep under one 
of these huge forest-trees, with the twit- 
tering birds to sing my requiem. 

^' But, Leo, dear dog — " 

With that he slowly rose. 

" But, Leo, I can't do it." 

I could see in his eyes the question, 
'•Whvnot?" 



BALKED BY FATE. 285 

'^ ni tell 3^ou a secret, Leo, but will you 
promise to keep it ? " 

He looked straight into my face. 

"Do you promise, sir ? " 

He gave a quick bark, and then I knew 
my secret would be safe. 

" I have news, sir." 

He took three steps forward and as- 
sumed a listening attitude. 

" She has sold her plantation, and is 
coming North. Do you understand, sir ? 
Don't you see that, beautiful as this spot 
is, I can't stay? Doesn't it enter your 
canine mind that 1 should be restless and 
unhappy anywhere except in the place 
where I can see Her ? • ' 

Then Leo came close to me, rose on his 
hind legs, placed his great paws on my 
chest, and kissed my cheeks with his 
rough tongue. 

It was a good omen, or at least I chose 
to so interpret it. 

As I stood on the veranda five minutes 
later, taking a tender farewell of every- 



286 BBOWN STUDIES. 

thing, I could not help saymg to myself, 
" Perhaps, after all, this is not a farewell. 
Sometime I may come back here, and 
possibly not alone. Who knows ? " 
Who can help dreaming ? 
And why should we not dream f 
" The soHtude of two together." That 
is what the poet says, and it is what I 
have longed for nianj^ a year. 

"And all I am I am through love of thee." 

I kept repeating the line in a half-whis- 
per. " Through love of thee ! " Yes, and 
if I question my heart closely I find that 
that love is just the same as ever ; a little 
more quiet, mayhap, but still unchanged. 

Then I recalled an incident in the long 
ago. Margaret and I w^ere sitting under 
an elm on the hillside. We had had a 
long walk from Bedford to Katonah, and 
from where we sat we could see the country 
for fifty miles around. 

She looked and looked, but said noth- 



I 



BALKED BY FATE. 287 

ing. The clouds were resting on tlie sum- 
mit of a long range to the westward, and 
the long intervale on this side was dotted 
with patches of wood and with farmers' 
cottages snuggled in convenient nooks 
and corners, out of the way of the sharp 
breezes of winter. It was a w^onderful 
scene, made still more beautiful by three 
lakes scattered over the landscape, and by 
the heavy cumuli that floated lazily over- 
head. 

Margaret said nothing. She never said 
anything when she felt most deeply. 
Hers was a strange nature, and she used 
speech very sparingly. But I could see that 
she was deeply impressed, and at last her 
eyes filled with tears, as she shyly placed 
her hand in mine and grasped it tightly. 

I understood her mood and kept silent. 

At length I ventured, "Margaret, you 
love nature ! " 

She simply nodded her head, but made 
no further reply. 



288 BROWX STUDIES. 

" And could you be content to live far 
from the city f " 

'^ The farther the better/' she answered. 

'' You wouldn't weary of it ? " 

" Not if I had good company/' she re- 
plied, with an arch look and a quiet smile. 

So as I stood on that veranda I won- 
dered if I might not sometime visit the 
camp again. 

'' Not if I had good company ! " Would 
it ever be my lot to be that company ? 

Possibly you are smihng at thought of 
a bachelor of forty indulging in such ro- 
mantic visions. 

Well, age and sentiment have no an- 
tagonisms. When a man is so far ad- 
vanced in years, or has so cooled, that he 
has no sentiment, it is about time to pack 
his gripsack and go to heaven. 

I gave Sim a silver watch which I had 
carried all winter, and to John I gave my 
rifle. All the remaining household goods 



BALKED BY FATE. 289 

were distributed between tliem, share and 
sliare alike. They are right royal good 
fellows, and never once have they grum- 
bled. They are steady, strong-headed, 
honest-hearted men of the best New Eng- 
land type, and when we shook hands it 
was with sincere regret on the part of all 
three — on the part of all f onr, indeed, for 
Leo gave his paw to both of them, and 
said in his own fashion, " If the signs of 
the times can be interpreted by a St. Ber- 
nard, we shall meet again on this very 
veranda, and in front of this very lake. 
So I will not say good-by, but an revoirJ^ 

I have been in New York something 
over two months, and it is now the middle 
of May. Dnring the first week I was the 
nnhappiest creature imaginable. In the 
fii-st place, I could not breathe. It seemed 
as though I was cabined, cribbed, con- 
fined. The air was full of dust, and I 
became so nervously irritable that I should 



290 



BBOJTX STUDIES. 



have gone straight back to the woods but 
for one thing. In the second place, I was 
in daily search of Her, and it is possible 
that my want of success had something 
to do with my nervous irritation. 

I got at last into such a condition that 
I called at the office of my old friend, 
Dr. Van Nest. 

'' Ah ! " he cried, heartily, '^ back again, 
eh? Well, a cordial welcome, my dear 
fellow. But what's the matter f You 
look haggard." 

Then he felt of my pulse, hstened to 
my heart-beats, and put me through a 
very rugged cross-examination. 

At the end he ejaculated " Hm ! " with 
considerable emphasis, and then added, 
" I see, I see." 

" I'm glad of that," I retorted, sharply, 
" for it's a good deal more than I can do." 

"You are as sound as a nut, Clarence. 
Your heart goes like the tick of a clock. 
How about your digestion 1 " 



BALKED BY FATE. 291 

^' Perfect/' I replied. 

A second time he muttered that omi- 
iions ^'Hm!" 

"Well, what do yon mean by that?" I 
asked. 

"Had any business troubles?" 

" None." 

"Haven't lost any money!" 

"Not a dollar." 

" Restless at night ? " 

" Yes, confound it ! I can't sleep at 
all." 

" Clarence, I'm going to be frank with 
you — I can't cure you. I couldn't write a 
prescription that would do you a particle 
of good." 

"Why not, pray?" 

" Because 3'our trouble is mental, not 
physical. There's something on your 
mind." 

This time it was I who said " Hm ! " 

" Yes, you have all the symptoms of a 
very serious disease," and the wretch drew 



292 BEOWX STUDIES. 

liis mouth down nntil lie looked the pic- 
ture of despair. 

" And so you do know what the matter 
is with me, after all ? " 

"I think so." 

'' What is it ? Is it cm-able ? " 

^^Yes, it is curable, but not by drugs. 
Clarence, excuse me, my dear boy, but — 
you are in love." 

I said something about doctors who 
know too much for then* own good, and 
then abruptly took my leave in disgust. 

Of course the doctor was right, but how 
did he discover my secret? Can other 
people find it out also ? I do not want to 
go into the street wdth a placard on my 
breast and the legend, " I'm in love ; pity 
me," so I rushed into my apartment and 
stayed there for twenty-four hours. I 
felt humiliated, and was disgusted with 
myself. 

I soon learned, however, that Dr. Van 
Nest was the only one of my friends who 



BALKED BY FATE. 293 

suspected the truth, and that greatly re- 
lieved me. 

He has since confessed that his diag- 
nosis was a random shot, but that my 
embarrassment convinced him that he 
had hit the mark. 

"Why, Clarence," he said, "I never 
dreamed of such a thing. I always sup- 
posed you were eternally ordained to be 
a bachelor. I was puzzled by youi- de- 
pression, for I could find no caase for it, 
and so, believing that you were the last 
man in the world to fall in love, I jok- 
ingly declared that that was your maladj^, 
I bowled you over, though, the first time, 
didn't I? In the words of Emerson, 'I 
builded better than I knew.' " 

But where had Margaret hidden her- 
self ? That was the mystery. 

Of course she would take no pains to 
find me. I knew her too well to dream 
of that. And I had absolutelv no clue to 



294 BBOJTX STUDIES. 

her. My cousin simply wrote, '^ She is in 
Kew York, or at least I suppose she is, 
but she would tell me nothing of her 
plans." Did she want me to find herf 
Suppose she did not ! Then my condi- 
tion woidd be worse than eyer. 

My imagination was at work, and a 
very heayy time I had of it. I conjured 
up all sorts of possibilities — such as her 
having grown cold to me, having forgot- 
ten me altogether — and at night got my- 
self into such a fever of excitement that 
I frecpiently heard the clock strike the 
hours until sunrise. 

I do not believe there is any misery in 
the world which Avill compare with that 
of a man who has given his whole heart 
to a woman, but does not know Avhether 
she bestows even a passing thought on 
him. 

Once I had a most excruciating ex- 
perience. I went to G-race Church on a 



a 



BALKED BY FATE. 295 

beantifnl June morning, hoping to find 
surcease of sorrow. 

I wonder if yon know what I mean 
when I say that just before the service 
began, while the organ was playing and 
the crowd of fashionable folk were being 
shown to their pews by the flunky of a 
sexton, I had a feeling, an uncontrollable 
feeling, that She was somewhere in that 
building? Was I magnetically conscious 
of her presence! Is it credible that we 
can produce such an effect on each other ? 
Can influences be transmitted through 
the air? I know not, and yet I was sure 
that in that throng Margaret was present, 
and I fell at once into a fever of expecta- 
tion. 

What made me sure? And what was 
it that whispered in my ear that I should 
catch a glimpse of her before the clock in 
the tower struck twelve ? 

T was so impressed by this feeling that 
before the service ended I took my station 



296 BliOWy STUDIES. 

at the door, intending to watcli as the 
people came out. 

Well, I was repaid for my pains. I did 
see her, though only for a moment — I 
was sure I did. I could not be mistaken. 
She was in deep black, with a veil over 
her face, and was accompanied by a lady 
and her husband, neither of whom I had 
ever seen before. I knew her by her gait 
and her general bearing. She had a pe- 
culiar walk. It was slow and deliberate, 
dignified and rhythmical. 

I stood spellbound until she reached the 
sidewalk, then, coming to my senses, tried 
to push my way through the crowd which 
blocked the narrow passage ; but before I 
could reach her she had entered the car- 
riage with her friends and was driven off. 

Could anything be more exasperating? 
It was a stroke of ill fortune, and I re- 
sented it as unfair. The goal was just with- 
in reach, but I missed it by thirty seconds. 

I do not think I was ever in such a state 



BALKED BY FATE. 297 

of mind in my life. There I stood, ntterly 
dazed, watching that retreating carriage 
Avith everything in it that was dearest to 
me, and was ntterly helpless. 

I think I onglit to be forgiven for what 
I said on that occasion, for the provoca- 
tion was certainly very sharp. Human 
nature can bear a great deal, but there 
are some things which are nnendr.rable, 
and this was one of them. 

There was in the incident all necessary 
material for a story such as would have 
delighted the genius of Poe. I did not 
sleep much that night, and when morn- 
ing came was sorry that I had slept at all. 

I dreamed that Margaret was just with- 
in reach, when seven humpbacked imps 
seized me. The two in front were push- 
ing me back, other two were dragging 
me by my arms, while three stood by a 
tree with ropes in their hands. Demoniac 
howls of glee filled the air. " Bind him ! " 



298 BBOWN STUDIES. 

tliey cried in chorus, " bind him ! " I 
struggled with mad desperation, but it 
was to no purpose. I shouted to Marga- 
ret until I was hoarse, but not a word did 
she hear. I succeeded in knocking one 
of the w^retches down, but he was in- 
stantly on his feet again and gave me 
such a buffet that my ears rang. The 
ropes w^ere coiled about me, and as I 
looked at them they changed to loath- 
some snakes, which slowly tightened their 
hold until I fairly gasped for breath. I 
had no longer any voice, but in spite of 
all I whispered hoarsely the name ^'Mar- 
garet ! Margaret ! " In the meantime she 
was walking, all unconscious of my pres- 
ence, toward a deep forest, in the shadow 
of wliich she w^as lost to sight. At the 
moment when she disappeared a loud clap 
of thunder rent the air, and I awoke. 

I got up, dressed, and sat by the open 
window in a very unenviable frame of 



BALKED BY FATE. 299 

mind. Balked ! Fate was against me, 
and fate was stronger than I. 

Wliat was the meaning of it? What 
had I done to deserve such ill fortune? 
"I certainly have no umvorthy motive," 
I said to myself. "I want nothing of 
which conscience cannot approve. On 
the contrary, I am in pursuit of happi- 
ness — and not my own happiness alone, 
either — by perfectly legitimate means 
which have been sanctified by the hopes 
and prayers of every generation that ever 
existed. And yet, just as I am about to 
cross the threshold, the fiends get me by 
the shoulder and thrust me back." 

I was wild with excess of disappoint- 
ment, for I saw no way of i-etrieving my 
lost chance. When I looked in the glass 
I found that my eyes were bloodshot. 
There was an expression in them which 
alarmed me. "Am I going insane?" I 
asked, " and will they take me to Bloom- 
ingdale? See how my hand trembles! 



300 BEOWN STUDIES. 

Feel liow my heart flutters ! Note tlie 
cold perspiration that has broken out all 
over me ! " 

My God ! what agony love brings ! 

"Tell me, Leo," I said, as the dog 
rubbed his nose against my knee, "tell 
me, old fellow, was any poor mortal ever 
in such a predicament before ? I w^ouldn't 
care if there were any way out of it, 
though. I count no labor or pains too 
great if I can only reach the goal at last. 
I think I could even laugli at my despera- 
tion, and hug my grief, if there were a 
ray of light. But what can I do, dear 
dog, what can I do ? " 

Leo uttered a low whine. Then he put 
his face close to mine, still whining, as 
though in sympathy. 

I hardly know why, but the shaggy 
brute gave me comfort. I grew calmer, 
and in ten minutes lay down on the couch 
and fell into a restless sleep. 



BALKED BY FATE. 301 

I awoke. There on the table were the 
letters which she had written in the old 
days. They were the worse for wear, for I 
had read them many times ; but somehow 
I felt like reading them again, aiid so two 
hours passed, until Tom called me for 
my hath and my breakfast. 

Now that I reflect upon it I am of 
opinion that my chief trouble was a doubt 
of Margaret. Was she still loyal, or had 
her strange experiences crowded aside all 
recollection of me ? My imagination ran 
riot, and I put the circumstances together 
in every possible shape, sometimes believ- 
ing that she was true, and then again ad- 
mitting that the chances were against me. 

If I knew that she was in Grace Church 
why should not she have known that I was 
there ? And if we felt each other's pres- 
ence how was it that we missed each other ? 

If you float two fine needles in a bowl 
of water they may at first be separated 
by a very considerable space, but the 



302 BROWN STUDIES. 

mutual attraction is such tliat though 
they drift about for a while, apparently 
aimlessly, they are every instant tr^dng- 
to get close together. It will not be long 
before the gap between them is so lessened 
that the magnetism increases their speed, 
and in the end they lie on the placid sm-- 
face side by side, theii* mission ended. I 
have tried that experiment many times 
and it never yet failed. 

" Now, why did not the same law bring 
Margaret and me together on that occa- 
sion?" I asked myself again and again. 
'' Was it that the love is all on one side ; 
that I am attracted to her and she is re- 
pelled from me f If that were so then I 
could easily understand the Grace Church 
incident. I knew she was there, but she 
neither knew nor cared that I was there. 
Is that the solution of the puzzle ? " 

So I tormented myself, and a very 
^vretched time I had of it. By the end 



BALKED BY FATE. 303 

of June I was so mortally tired of my- 
selfj and so unfit for tlie company of my 
friends, that I determined on a long- 
rest in some quiet country village. 

It made but little difference, of course, 
in wlncli direction I went, if I only suc- 
ceeded in getting away from the mad 
world which was constantly expressing 
surprise at my condition, and condoling 
with me because I had made such a mis- 
take in going to the Adirondacks. 

I could not help smiling grimly more 
than once when some overwise creature 
assured me that he had told his wife when 
I started in the autumn that I should not 
be able to bear the climate and would 
come back all worn out. "And now," 
these people added, "here you are, thin 
and worn and haggard, just as I knew 
you would be." 

Wliile studying a railroad map my eye 
fell on the little village of Sharon, in 
western Connecticut. The guide-book in- 



304 BEOWX STUDIES. 

formed me that it was a beautiful spot, 
just at the southern extremity of the 
Berkshire Hills, with points of Yie^Y from 
which a very extended country could be 
seen, and many other attractions too 
numerous to mention and which I cared 
nothing about. 

'' The Berkshires ? Didn't she once teU 
me that she had been there? It is so 
long ago that I have half forgotten, but 
that is m}^ impression. And Sharon! 
That, too, has a familiar sound. Let me 
think. Have I ever been there? No. 
Am I acquainted with anybody there? 
No. Hold a minute. Where was Mar- 
garet born? Somewhere among these 
Berkshire Hills, I am sure. I can't be 
mistaken about that? Why, of coui'se. 
It is all plain now. My memory serves 
me w^ell. It was in Sharon that she first 
saw the light, and from Sharon she came 
to New York." 

So I determined to get out of the city 



I 



BALKED BY FATE. 305 

as soon as possible, and Sharon should be 
my destination. Perhaps — but no, that 
wonld hardly be possible. I might not 
find any trace of her there, for all her 
near relatives died long since ; but, at 
any rate, it would furnish me an opportu- 
nity to j)ull myself together, and that 
was what I most needed. 

So within forty-eight hours I was snugly 
ensconced in the little inn on the main 
street, under the shadow of a long row of 
glorious elms. 



CHAPTER XII. 



MARRIAGE BELLS. 



Beautiful Sliaron ! If you have been 
tliere you may possibly say that my hiii- 
guage is too strong. Topographically it 
is not more exquisite in situation or out- 
look than a dozen other New England 
villages, but to me, and for reasons which 
I shall disclose at my leisure, it is the fair- 
est spot on the globe. 

"When I go to heaven I hope to begin 
the jom-ney from Sharon. 

There is a central avenue a mile long 
and something over two hundred feet 
wide. On either side are stately elms, 
some of them fifty and others a fuU cen- 
tury old, whose branches interlace, giving 
a picturesqueness to the place which it 

306 ' 



MARRIAGE BELLS. 307 

would be difficult to duplicate. These 
elms have looked down on two or three 
generations of men Avho have done their 
day's work and then gone to the church- 
yard at the western end of the village. 

A certain kind of quiet and reposef ul- 
ness prevails which lengthens the years 
of the good folk who live there. As you 
saunter about in the gloaming you see 
old men who have counted out their four- 
score winters and are still young in heart, 
and matrons of threescore and ten who 
have reared large families and yet show 
very little of the strain of life. Once in 
a while a patriarch with hair and beard 
like snow stops to chat with you coiicern- 
ing the weather or the crops or the dull 
times, and you are surprised to learn tliat 
he was in his cradle at the beginning of 
the century. He tells you, from memory, 
of the things that happened long before 
the first steamboat stemmed the current 
of the Hudson or the first locomotive sent 



308 BliOirX STUDIES. 

its slirill whistle tliroug-li our valleys like 
a strange, uneartlily strain of music. 

Besides, tlie drives about Sharon are 
exceptionally fine. During the fii*st week 
of my stay I exjDlored the surrounding 
country, sometimes on foot and then 
again on horseback. From every hilltop 
I had a new ^dew, the landscape being 
varied by plains, rivers, and lakes, all 
framed by ranges of mountains along the 
horizon line. 

My perturbed spirit gradually grew 
calm under the sweet influences of my 
environment, and my sharp, acute pain 
gave way to a dull ache at the heart. 
Not even the beauties or the sublimities 
of natui^e could assuage that. 

My thoughts were all of Her, and dur- 
ing my long tramps through the woods I 
gave rein to my imagination, conjured up 
all sorts of pictures in which She and I 
were side by side, and then woke from 
the brown studv with a si oil 



1 



MARRIAGE BELLS. 309 

I was frightfully lonely — inexpressibly 
so — for fate had ]3iit a cine to Margaret 
into my hand, and when I had followed 
it a certain distance, and seemed close to 
a discovery of her whereabouts, it broke 
and left me once more to my doubts and 
fears. 

Love is a good deal lilvc hunger, for it 
gnaws the very vitals. 

A love that has attained its object 
furnishes us with a degree of bliss which 
only heaven can excel. 

A love that searches but cannot find, 
that knows the dear one is somewhere 
within telescopic distance and may come 
at any moment within tlie reach of your 
vision, makes you restless with a misery 
which no words can express. 

This was my condition. I went to 
Sharon to get a new grip on myself, for 
I had slipped away from my self-control 
and was well-nigh crazed. Wliere had 
She found a hiding-place ? Did she know 



310 BUOWN STUDIES. 

I was searching for her? Did she hope 
that sometime we should meet and clasp 
hands in the old waj^, or had she become 
forgetful of the past and indifferent to 
me? 

Suppose another, more worthy than I, 
should — then came a rush of blood to my 
head, and I grcAV dizzy. That thought 
had not occurred to me before, and its 
poignant anguish was like an arrow quiv- 
ering in the flesh. I left the table where 
I was taking my evening meal, and walked 
up and down the piazza of the hotel for 
hours — literally for hours — and the fiend- 
ish possibilities which my brain conjured 
up drove me wild. The moon came out 
bright and clear, sweeping the clouds 
away and extinguishing the stars by its 
superior hght; but still I walked and 
nursed my fear of all the evil chances 
that might befall. 

I tell you this because it will serve as 
a prologue to that part of tlie story which 



MABBIAGE BELLS. 311 

it will now be my happiness to relate, and 
when you know all yon will understand 
why Sharon is like paradise, and why I 
am building a cottage there on a hilltop 
just outside the village limits. 

One evening, when I was feeling spe- 
cially wretched, my soul like a lump of 
indigo, my blood crawling through my 
veins like a sluggish stream of ice- water, 
I entered the little post-office in search of 
letters. Not that I cared to hear from 
my friends — if I had any — for I knew 
well enough that they simply regarded me 
as a queer sort of creature, who would 
excite the curiosity of inqidring physi- 
cians at a post-mortem. They were sure 
that some abnormal condition of the brain 
liad supervened, and that the surgeon's 
knife and saw would after a little explain 
my eccentricities. I was at the end of my 
tether, however, and needed the stimulus 
wdiich a missive with a stamp on it some- 
times affords. 



312 BEOWN STUDIES. 

The clerk behind the grated window 
greeted me with a cheery " Good-even- 
ing/' but I made no reply. I Avas in no 
mood to talk, and he doubtless thought 
me very nncoiu-teons. I thrust the letters 
into my coat-pocket, not caring even to 
know who had taken the pains to wiite, 
and started for the door. 

As I stood on the steps a lady brushed 
by me somewhat hastily. She evidently 
wished to avoid me, a fact which I thought 
not unnatural, since I had done the same 
thing many a time. But she was di-essed 
in deep black, and that attracted my at- 
tention. " Poor creature ! " I said to my- 
self, "perhaps she has lost a child or a 
husband;" and I turned for an instant to 
look at her. Her face was veiled, but her 
walk and her general bearing were fa- 
miliar. I hardly knew why, but I began 
to tremble. I feared to fall, and so leaned 
against the door-post. 

"Well," I said to myself, "the end is 



MABBIAGE BELLS. 313 

not far off if you are so weak that the 
sight of a strjiiiger in mourning affects 
your nerves in that way." I was ahnost 
furious with myself, and my indignation 
gave me strength. But before I left the 
room I turned to get a second glimpse of 
the lady. She had three letters in her 
hand, and had thrown her veil back for 
a moment to read the inscriptions. 

My heart stood still. How pale she 
was, and what traces of sorrow had left 
their mark on her forehead and cheeks ! 
How clianged from other days, but what 
a resigned, seraphic expression her face 
wore ! 

^'Margaret ! " I whispered, as I sprang 
to her side. 

She turned, and her eyes met mine. 

Her first word was " Clarence ! " but she 
checked herself and added, '' Mr. Flem- 
ing." 

No, she did not take the hand which I 
involuntarily stretched toward her, but 



314 BUOTVX STUDIES. 

stood for an instant like a statue, tlien 
hastily moved away. 

" You will not leave me ? " I cried. 

Then she gave me a look I shall never 
forg-et. She must have seen how I felt, 
what misery overwhelmed me, but if she 
did she was not in the least affected 
by it. 

" I must go," she said. " Good-even- 
ing." 

'' May I walk with yon ? " 

^^ No ! " was the reply. 

" It is so many years, Margaret." 

" I know it." But this time she did not 
even glance at me. 

'^I have been searching for you for 
months," I ventured. 

She drew her veil down and I saw her 
face no more. 

" May I call on yon ? " 

For a moment she hesitated, and then 
answered, " It is better not." 

" But shaU I not see you again ? " 



MAURI AGE BELLS. 315 

"I cannot tell." And lier voice was 
like the trembling note of a Ante. 

"Yon have not forgotten, Margaret?" 

'•Good-night, Mr. Flennngv" and the 
next moment she was gone. 

T w^as ntterly dazed, and stood stock- 
still on the sidewalk like a graven image 
for several minntes. What did it mean ? 
Was she sorry she had met me ? 

"At any rate," I said to myself, "my 
search is over. W^iat strange fortnne it 
was that bronght me to this particnlar 
village at this particnlar time ! " 

W^as it intended that we shonld stand 
face to face, that my fntnre might be 
decided and my hopes set at rest either 
by f rnition or annihilation ? Were snbtle 
forces at w^ork, forces of which we have 
no knowledge, and did they incline her 
to seek surcease of sorrow in the home of 
her childhood, and at the same instant 
lead me to seek a remedy for my ills in 
the same place ? It seemed to me that if 



!1G 



BB01VX STUDIES. 



fate was not specially cruel it had some 
purpose in this wonderful coincidence. 

So I went back to my hotel, crawled 
up into my room, and lay on the lounge 
pondering. 

Two weeks afterward I was walking 
through a secluded lane for the simple rea- 
son that I wanted to be alone. It was just 
beyond the village, on the road that leads 
to the Housatonic Valley. At a bend of 
the path I came upon Margaret once more. 

That was another strange incident. 
Why was she there in that untrodden 
spot, and, moreover, why was I there? 
When I started out in the morning I 
knew nothing about such a path, and 
took no thought of where I was going. 
I wanted to get out of the way, and when 
I saw this lane leading through the woods 
it seemed enticing, and without a mo- 
ment's hesitation I turned into it. 

" Margaret," I said, " it is intended that 
we should meet." 



MARRIAGE BELLS. 317 

" So it seems," was lier quiet reply. 

'■'' Do you often walk here ? " 

^' I have never been here before." 

^^ Neither have I." 

" It was a mere chance/' she continued. 
'■'■ I was a bit out of sorts with myself, and 
came out for a brisk tramp. The high- 
way was dusty, and this path seemed so 
cool and shady that I thought it might 
give me the solitude I need." 

" And my experience was precisely the 
same," I replied. "Are you sorry that 
we have met, Margaret ? " 

" I don't know," she answered. 

" Margaret ! " 

"Yes?" 

" I am glad we have met just here, 
have much to tell you, and there are some 
thiugs you can tell me. Be frank with 
me now : is the past gone forever f " 

" I have a good memory," she answered. 
" It is not my fault, though perhaps it is 
my misfortune." 



318 BROWN STUDIES. 

I grew bitter, for it seemed to me tliat 
slie was trying to avoid a dii-ect answer. 

No man in the world can understand 
a woman. She is not made of the same 
material as we ; her composition is finer, 
her intuitions more acute, her way of 
looking at life more subtle. 

I accused her of a want of loyalty, 
spoke with vehement earnestness, poured 
out all the fears that had wrung my soid, 
and Avhen I had finished she put her hand 
on my arm and said, " Clarence, pardon 
me, but I must not listen to you. You 
forget that I have a grave to guard. 
Your words are unworthy of 3'ou. You 
are cruel." 

I saw that she was suffering. The 
hand on my arm was trembUng. I had 
strangely blundered in my utterance. 
She was greater, nobler, more chivalrous 
than I, and I felt humiliated. 

" Good-by, my friend,"' she said at last. 
" You would not respect me if you thought 



MARRIAGE BELLS. 319 

I could do less than my duty. My hus- 
band — " then she broke down, and her 
words went to my heart. 

"Go 3^our Avay/' she added, '^and let 
me go mine. You have your burden and 
must bear it ; I have a burden also." 

Then she turned and quietly walked 
away. 

" God help me ! " I cried, as she disap- 
peared. "It is all over. My doom is 
sealed. She may have a grave to guard, 
but I have one too. My hopes are buried, 
and there is nothing now to live for." 

I sat under a tree and dreamed for two 
mortal hours. " Respect her ! " I cried, 
" I respect her more than ever. She will 
not let even me intrude upon her private 
griefs. Did she not tell me, with ahnost 
brutal plainness, that I must stand aside ? " 

I fairly writhed in agony. The drama 
had ended, so far as I was concerned. 

" Go your way, and let me go mine ! " 
What could be clearer than that ? 



320 BliOW^i STUDIES. 

''My friend!" Was that all I could 
ever be to her ? 

Then with a groan I staggered to my 
feet and slowly wandered on. She had 
turned her back on me, and I should 
probably never see her again. Ten years 
of waiting, and at the end indifference. 
Unseen hands had guided our separate 
fortunes, but when the consummation of 
my prayers seemed within reach she said, 
" Go your wa}^, and let me go mine." 

During the next month I met her three 
times, but she was on all occasions cool 
in demeanor, even cold. I was fire and 
she was ice. I was a volcano and she 
was a glacier. 

I see it all now, and can afford to smile 
at my mistake, but at the time I was the 
most wi'etched being that lived. 

One day I sat with her on the roadside 
on the brow of the hill at the western 
end of the village. I hardly knew how, 
but the conversation drifted to her ex- 



MARRIAGE BELLS. 321 

perieiices in Florida, and she told me of 
life on tlie plantation, of the kindliness 
of her neighbors when her hnsband fell 
ill, and some pathetic anecdotes of tlie 
devoted negroes, who mnst have regarded 
her as a saint or an angel. Then she said : 

'^ I want to tell yon about Edward's last 
honrs; what a patient snfferer he was, 
and how l)ravely he met his doom. There 
were some strange occurrences during 
the last night of his life, and I have never 
been able to account for them. Perhaps 
you can explain them. I remember that 
in the old days — " 

There she stopped. Evidently she had 
made the reference unwittingh^, and re- 
gretted it both for her own sake and mine. 
She looked at the lake in the near dis- 
tance, and then at the horizon, whose 
clouds were of a rich orange color, and 
seemed lost in thought. 

'' Those memories are painful, Marga- 
ret. It is better not to refer to them." 



:{22 BliOWX STUDIES. 

" I did not intend to/' she replied. '' I 
am sorry." 

Her voice was tremulous, and I saw 
her bite her lips. 

'• Let it pass,"' I said, '• and tell me about 
the things that puzzle von." 

"You were interested in occult mat- 
ters/' she continued, " and knew all about 
such things." 

"Yes?" 

" You have not forgotten ? " she asked. 

" No, I have not forgotten anything." 

" Do you still retain your interest ? " 

" Somewhat, but not so much as for- 
merly, Margaret ; and yet I may possibly 
helj) you. Tell me the whole story." 

"Well, when Edward was dying — it 
was close to midnight — I had a strange 
consciousness that you were present." 

"Indeed! How could that be pos- 
sible?" 

"I don't know. That is what I want 
vou to tell me. All that dav I felt very 



MAEBIAGE BELLS. 323 

helpless and very hopeless. The neigh- 
bors were more than nrg-ent in tendering 
their services, bnt somehow nothing that 
they eonld do appeared to satisfy me. 
My thonglits were beyond my control. I 
would have checked them, ])nt could not. 
I felt it to be almost a sacrilege, and 
blamed myself without stint, but I wanted 
a kind of sympathy which no one there 
could give me." 

Again she hesitated. 

" I don't know why I tell you this," she 
went on. " Perhaps you are not pleased." 

" Pray tell me the whole truth," I cried. 
" It is more important than yon thiidv." 

" What do you mean ? " 

" No matter just now," I answered. '' I 
will explain later on. How did you feel 
my presence, and when did you feel it 
first?" 

" It was between ele^^en and twelve. I 
even went to the window and looked out, 
half expecting that I might see you in 



324 BROWN STUDIES. 

tlie road. Then I pushed it all aside as 
the work of a tired brain ; but just as I 
took my seat once more at Edward's side 
I felt sure that you were in the room. 
Strange, wasn't it ? " 

" What else ? " I asked, and my soul was 
on fire. 

"Not much, only I thought I heard 
your voice." 

" You did hear me, then, you did hear 
me? What did I say?" 

" You called ' Margaret ! ' If I had not 
known that you were a thousand miles 
away I could have SAVorn that you were 
near me at that time, and the thought 
gave me strength. Then, just as the 
clock struck twelve — " 

" The clo(;k on tlie mantel ? " I asked. 

"Yes." 

" The clock in a morocco case, the one 
r gave you on your birthday ? " 

"Yes," and she looked at me with open- 
eyed wonder. " How do you know — " 



3 



MAIUIIAGE BELLS. 325 

I took her liaiid^ and this time she did 
not withdraw it. 

" Shall I tell you how I know ? " I asked. 

"Why not?" 

" It is incredible." 

'' That makes no difference." 

" You will think me crazy." 

" Perhaps, but no matter." 

" You thought I was with you on that 
lastnig-htf" 

" I was sure of it." 

" Well, you were right. I was there." 

"You?" 

" Yes, Margaret, I was really there, and 
saw all that occurred." 

She trembled with excitement. 

" You have told me a part of the story, 
Margaret 5 now let me finish it. Edward 
called for a pencil and paper, did he 
not?" 

She nodded her head. 

" He wrote a letter, put it in an enve- 
lope, and addressed it." 



326 BROWN STUDIES. 

"Yes, but liow could you know?" 

" T saw liim." 

" Yon were in the Adirondacks." 

'■'■ No, I was in Florida."' 

This was more than she eonld bear, and 
lier eyes filled with tears. 

'' That letter,'' I went on, " Avas intended 
for me. He handed it to yon and asked 
you to deliver it in person. You have 
never given it to me. It is mine, and I 
must have it.' 

" Do 3"ou know its contents?" 

"No, but I have a risrht to know, and 
I will know. Have you it with you ? " 

She shook her head. 

"You will let me have it?" 

"I- don't know that I ought." 

" That," I insisted, " is not a matter for 
you to decide. It Avas Edw^ard's last re- 
quest, and you must respect it. You 
have something in your possession which 
does not belong to you. I am the right- 
ful owner, and I demand the letter." 



MAlllllAGE BELLS. 327 

This may seem to be severe language, 
but of coui'se there was good nature under 
it all. I had an infinite curiosity to know 
the contents of that letter, for it was writ- 
ten by the dying man under strange cir- 
cumstances. It referred to me in some 
way, some very peculiar way, and must 
have had a special significance, since it 
was the last statement of a man who was 
about to leave the world for the unknown 
and unexplored future. 

" You shall have it," said Margaret, very 
quietly, " but — '' 

- But what ? " I asked. 

''You ought, I think, to allow me to 
read it also." 

"You have no knowledge of what it 
contains ? " 

"Not the least," she answered. 

" And no surmise f " 

" I had better not answer that question, 
because I may be mistaken." 

"When shall I have it, Margaret?" 



328 BIWIVX STUBIES. 

'^ I will send it to your hotel this even- 
ing." 

And she did. 

I Avent straight to my room in a very 
unhappy frame of mind, and with a cer- 
tain feeling of awe, as though I was about 
to converse with the dead. I sat at the 
window for a long while, holding the let- 
ter in my hand and thinking over that 
wonderful experience which most people 
will regard as an hallucination. At last, 
hoAvever, I tore the envelope and read as 
follows : 

'^ My dear Clarence : I am dying. 
The end of my journey is near at hand, 
and \ feel sure that I shall not see the 
light of another day. I cannot go Avith- 
out a Avord with you. 

" Margaret ! It has been a one-sided 
love. I gave her all I had to give, but 
she gave me very little in return. It was 
not her fault, and I had no AVord of blame 



MARRIAGE BELLS. 329 

or even of criticism. She did what she 
could, has been a true and faithful wife ; 
hut do not for a moment think I have 
been deceived. 

" She belonged to you, has been yours 
at heart all these years, and is yours at 
this moment when she is watching by my 
side, soon to close my eyes in the last 
sleep. 

" Under the influence of a terrible ex- 
perience she said ' Yes ^ when she should 
have said ^ No,' and would have said it if 
she had reflected for twenty-four hours. 
But I was greedy for her, and lionestl}^ 
believed that I could in time make her 
love me. In this I have not been success- 
ful. 

" Take her, my dear fellow, and, if you 
can, forgive me for robbing you of a 
great deal of happiness. It will all come 
round right in good time. I do not know 
how or where, but you will meet her, and 
she will be wholly yours. Think of me 



330 BROWN STUDIES. 

as kindly as ma}^ be. I give you a dying 
mail's blessing, with tlie hope that 3'oii 
and she will forget these long and weary 
years of waiting. 

" Yours, 

'' Edward." 

Can I describe my feelings on the peru- 
sal of this letter ? No, they must be left 
to your imagination, for no words can 
give them their proper coloring. 

Should I, dare I, show such a letter to 
Margaret ! Would she be sorry for hav- 
ing read it ? Suppose Edward was in the 
w^rong after all, and the old love had died 



away ! 

What a plight I should be in, and w^hat 
a frightful position for her to occupy ! 

Yet I knew that she would meet the 
emergency bravely, and tell me the exact 
truth, for she never flinched in a crisis. 

" Margaret," I said, as we sat together 
under a shady tree, with a brooklet rip- 



MARRIAGE BELLS. 331 

pling at our feet, '' I have that letter with 
me." 

She held out her hand. 

"It refers to matters which are very 
sacred to me." 

''Yes?" 

''And these matters also concern you." 

>' Indeed ! " 

Then I went over the whole story of 
the past, not without great vehemence of 
expression, I judge, for there was a look 
of alarm in her face. 

"And now," I said, "shall I read the 
letter?" 

"If you wish," and her voice fell to a 
whisper. 

At the end she heaved a great sigh, and 
there were tears in her eyes. 

I took her hand in mine and — 

But why should I say more? There 
are some things which one does not speak 
of, and this is one of them. 

Suffice it that when I parted from her 



332 BBOWX STUDIES. 

tliat afternoon I said good-by witli a 
kiss. 

All that occuiTed two j^ars ago. 

Last nnontli Margaret and I Avere mar 
ried. 

Mv brown studies are at an endc 



HERALD SERMONS. 

By Rev. GEORGE H. HEPWORTH, 

AUTHOR OF " HIRAM GOLF's RELIGION," ETC. 

45 Short Sermons reprinted from the New York Herald. 
i2mo, 252 pages. Portrait of Author. $1.00. 

" For months past a sermon has appeared as the leading- editorial in 
the Sunday edition of the Herald^ and these sermons have now been 
published in booii form. In reproducing these admirable discourses the 
publishers have unquestionably acted wisely. Both here and in Europe a 
lively controversy has been aroused in consequence of the bold statements 
and striking originality of these weekly essays on religious topics, while 
at the same time great curiosity has been manifested in regard to the per- 
sonality of the author. 

" But why have these sermons caused such a sensation ? Do they differ 
so much from ordinary sermons? .... Lucidity, brevity, the ex- 
pression of vital truths in clear cut Saxon English, absence of dogmatism, 
an evident abhorrence of intolerance of all kinds, a catholic sympathy 
with human beings of all ranks and creeds, and a determination to insist 
on all occasions that ecclesiasticism, with its formulas and rigid adherence 
to the letter of the law, is quite a different thing from the simple, soul 
satisfying religion of Christ — these, we think, are the chief characteristics 
of George H. Hepworth, as made known to us through this book, and it 
is precisely because he has given full play to his individuality that these 
sermons of his are well worth reading now, and will be well worth read- 
ing long after the author has passed away." — Nezu York Herald. 

" In these sermons subjects were chosen which come home to every 
individual some time in his life whether he is in one church or another, or 
in no church ; and they were treated in such a broad way that they could 
be beneficial to all. The sermons have one excellent merit which it would 
be well if some of those given in pulpits could be patterned after — they 
are brief and strictly to the point. Some of the sermons which are par- 
ticularly helpful or suggestive are, 'A Wasted Life,' ' Prayer,' ' The 
Problem of Poverty,' 'Why Do We Suffer?' 'Heroes and Heroines,' 
' Bearing Good Fruit,' ' Do What You Think Is Right,' ' Little 
People Who Live Little Lives,' and ' You Shall Have Strength.' These 
are a few of those in the volume, every one of which will contain some 
word for some one in trouble or doubt." — Boston Transcript. 

" They are addressed to men and women entangled in the perplexities 
of life, and help them not so much by opening: to them a larger faith as by 
disclosing to them the hope and comfort which lies in the faith they now 
hold." — Independent. 

"A volume of unusual interest. These sermons have already reached 
large congregations. They ought to, and doubtless will, in the present 
form reach still larger. They will be found helpful, all the more so be- 
cause of their freedom from dogma, and of their fresh, vigorous dealing 
with practical questions and problems." — Boston Daily Advertiser. 



Sent by 7nail^ postpaid^ on receipt of price. 

E. P. DUTTON & CO., PUBLISHERS, 
31 West 23d Street, New York. 



Hiram Qolf's Religion; 

OR, 

" The Shoemaker by the Grace of God, 

By GEORGE H. HEPWORTH. 

13th thousand. i6mo, 134 pages, cloth, 75 cents. 

" Plain talks of a shoemaker and a parson. They are in dialect ; the 
style is both quaint and strong. A book that gives the reader something 
to think about, . . . The sterling, homely common sense of the book 
is commanding wide attention." — The Evangelist. 

" This little book contains, in quaint and simple sketches, the essence 
of practical Christianity. Hiram Golf is a man who exemplifies the pre- 
cept, ' Whether ye eat or drink, or whatever ye do, do all to the glory of 
God.' His talks with the young minister are the best sort of lay sermons, 
and his life is at once a model and an inspiration. The book cannot fail 
to be of service to ministers and laymen alike."- — Nc^v York Observer, 

" The point is that serving God consists in doing His will, especially 
so as to benefit one's fellow men and women wherever one finds himself. 
It is a powerful and touching little story and should have a large circula 
t i o n . " — Co ngrega tio n a list . 

" This book is a small volume, but contains wisdom in large chunks. 
Hiram was a poor shoemaker who mended shoes, and was just as much an 
adept in mending worn-out, tired souls. His talks are eminently practical 
and adapted to benefit all the army of grumblers. Hiram's religion has 
nothing in it that is dyspeptic, which is more than can be said of many 
good, well-meaning people. The little book has wonderfully good prac- 
tical lessons, adapted to every-day life, on every page." — The Inter-Ocean. 

" About a year ago a little book was published which won for itself 
thousands of readers in a very few months. ' Hiram Golf's Religion ' 
was one of the sturdy books that make men live better, because it makes 
them think better. The homely sayings of the old shoemaker made every 
one study himself." — Books and A nthors. 

"If every Christian minister and layman would read this little book 
and put into practical life its wholesome suggestions, there would be a 

great change in the tone of many Christian communities One 

will have a truer idea of the value of a small place for winning souls after 
reading this keen, practical, helpful book. Would that there many more 
like it." — Religious Telescope. 



THEY MET IN HEAVEN 

By GEORGE H. HEPWORTH. 

5th thousand. i6mo, 216 pages, cloth, 75 cents. 

An account of The Fireside Chib and its discussions during the 
winter preceding- the death of Hiram Golf. 

" This is a tender and helpful study in religious experiences. . . 
To many Dr. Hepworth's method may be a hand stretched out from 
heaven. To all it will be a book of pure, gentle and persuasive Christian 
inspiration. . . . We have no doubt that an inquirer hke Van Brunt, 
shut up in the dark, barren and hopeless cage of intellectual orthodoxy 
and spiritual leanness, would find Hiram Golf's method a door open 
into faith." — Independent. 

" It tells of a small club of friends, one of whom is Hiram Golf, the 
now well-known 'shoemaker by the grace of God,' and how their chats 
brought trust and peace to one bereaved, despairing and almost crazed, by 
unfolding to him the hopes of heaven and of reunion with the beloved 
dead which the gospel suggests. It is eminently readable, and is practical 
and inspiring." — Congregationalist. 

"The reading public, after enjoying ' Hiram Golf's Religion' by this 
same talented author, will cordially welcome this very interesting com- 
panion volume. It is a gem of the first water, like the other. It portrays 
in a skilful, )^et natural and tender manner, a case of genuine religious ex- 
perience. It shows how men, struggling in deep mental and moral dark- 
ness — the most unlikely subjects of conquering grace — may be led out into 
life and faith and hope and heaven. Books of this character have a 
blessed mission, and should be warmly received and widely read. The 
narrative portions are fascinating. The whole is put in a most charming 
and persuasive \Na.Y. "'''^Christian Ifiteiiigencer. 



THE LIFE BEYOND. 

This riortal flust Put on Immortality. 

By GEORGE H. HEPWORTH. 
2nd thousand. i6mo, 116 pages, cloth, 75 cents. 

" The author of this choice book is pleased to think that he has made 
no single statement which can in any proper sense be called original ; but 
he has given the oldest truths and the commonest beliefs a freshness of put- 
ting and illustration better than originality. He tells the old, old story: 
he tells it in a way to stimulate interest and desire and afford consolation 
to the wearied and forlorn, who are seeking for sources of comfort in the 
unseen and immeasurable things beyond the vail." — Zion''s Herald. 

" The thoughts presented are expressed clearly and forcibly, and in a 
style fitted to commend them to tried and sorrowing hearts," — Watchmayi, 













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